The Funny Farm and the Goblet of Fire
by Schmo and Sushi
Summary: LOOK! IT'S COMPLETE! Sequel, FF & PRISONER OF AZKABAN. The Funny Farm is back for 4th year! But with foreign schools, a nationally recognized Tournament taking place, and all the raging hormones, will they find that it's too much to handle? DeanOC.
1. Many Meetings

"Mom!" Rachel Hekman ran into the house, her brown hair flying everywhere. _"Mom!"_

"What is it?" Mrs. Hekman asked as her daughter tripped over a stack of two-by-fours and landed on the floor with a thump.

Rachel held out a sheaf of parchment as she got to her feet. "I got a reply from Seamus." She was about to go on, but suddenly, she stopped and looked suddenly curious. "I wonder where Romulus got to."

A yowl from the living room made them both jump. One of the men who were laying carpet came running into the family room, his face ruddy with excitement. "Ma'am, did you know you have an owl in your house?"

Rachel grinned and whistled, and when Romulus settled on her shoulder, she nearly began laughing at the terrified expression on the man's face.

Mrs. Hekman looked reproachfully at her daughter and took the letter from her hand. "O Dearest Sushi: Thanks for your last letter…" Her eyes scanned the page, trying to find the place her daughter had indicated. "…Quidditch World Cup is being held in Britain this year. My mam and I are going, and we've got extra tickets"—Mrs. Hekman peered closer at the paper, trying to decipher Seamus' untidy scrawl—"and we were wondering if you and Hannah and Tanya and Katelyn would like to go!"

Rachel squealed and clutched at her mother's hands. "Oh, Mama, I really want to go! Katelyn and Tanya and Hannah and Haley are already going! Besides, Mrs. Finnigan will be taking us all."

Mrs. Hekman, who had been looking highly doubtful, raised her eyebrows. "That's true…" Mrs. Finnigan and Mrs. Hekman had kept up a steady stream of friendly correspondence since they'd met before the Funny Farm's third year, and now Rachel decided that it was, indeed, a very good thing.

_"Please_?"

Mrs. Hekman sighed and looked back down at the letter. "A week from yesterday? Well, that seems reasonable…"

"Mom, I'd just stay there until the school term starts again. _Please_? Haley's already agreed to come with. We'd just take a Portkey with her to wherever Mrs. Finnigan wants us to go."

"All right."

"All right what?"

"I suppose you may go."

_"Yes!_" Rachel leapt in the air and squeezed her poor owl in her arms, much as you'd hold a human infant. "You hear that, Romulus? We're going to the _World Cup_! Oh my gosh, I've got to tell Bev! I've got to pack! I've got to call Katelyn and Tanya and Hannah! I've got to call Seamus!" She snatched up the cordless phone and ran out of the room.

"She moves in completely different circles than I did in high school," Mrs. Hekman said to Romulus, who was irritably smoothing his feathers back down into place. "I've just gotten her back, and off she goes again, leaving me lacking a daughter."

Romulus hooted dejectedly.

------------------------------------

"Seamus!"

This delighted shriek made everyone near the entrance cottage look round, including the Muggle standing in the doorway. A blur of black and blue caught Seamus Finnigan around the neck and knocked him sprawling on the grass.

_"Ow!_ Who's that?"

"Who do you _think_?" Rachel asked, brushing the grass off her jeans and helping Seamus to his feet. "And sorry for knocking you over like that—I've really been quite clumsy lately."

He peered at her. _"Rachel?_"

She looked back at him, her eyebrows raised so high that they disappeared into the shadows of her baseball cap. "What?"

A cry of excitement drowned out Seamus' next words as Dean Thomas came around the building with a sandy-haired woman who had the same green eyes as Seamus. She came rather slower than Dean, as she was obviously pregnant. Hannah rushed past Haley, Tanya, Katelyn, Rachel, Seamus, and Mrs. Finnigan and was about to throw her arms around Dean's neck when she stopped abruptly. "Er…" she said, coloring. The Funny Farm shared her discomfort, each remembering the ongoing spat Dean and Hannah had had during third year.

Hannah stuck her hand out to Dean instead, who shook it gingerly. "Hey, everyone."

"Hi, Dean," they chorused.

"You didn't tell us Dean was going to be here," Katelyn said. "I am all of astonishment!"

"I didn't? Oh, I thought I did." Seamus shrugged, and then noticed something odd about the girl standing next to him. "Rachel—where's your hair?"

"Seamus!" Mrs. Finnigan said reproachfully.

"It's under her hat," Katelyn informed him.

He peered at the writing on it. "'Witchful Thinking.' Nice, but why are you hiding under it?" He made to take it off her head, but she ducked away.

"Please don't, Seamus."

"Leave her hat alone," Mrs. Finnigan chided him. "Anyways…how is everyone doing? Still have all your limbs?"

"Yes," everyone replied with smiles.

Mrs. Finnigan beamed at the little cluster of young people in front of her, all of which she was terribly fond of. "Well, then. Let's not stand around all day, shall we? Pick up your things, because I have a right nice campsite picked out."

So they followed her to their site, where two white tents were set up behind a slightly battered fire pit and some Muggle lawn chairs. "We'll be staying here for a week, o' course, then a few days in London, then off to school for you all."

"I'm just excited to _be_ here," Hannah said enthusiastically. "I _do_ hope Ireland wins."

"Well, what _else_ would you say?" Dean joked, dropping his duffel bag by one of the tents.

"Good point," Rachel said, setting her backpack on one of the chairs. "Say anything else, and _goodbye_, you'll be killed by rampaging leprechauns."

Haley, who hasn't said or done anything except stand around and be an extra up until now, began laughing, but when everyone in the near vicinity turned around to glare, she and Rachel blanched.

Suddenly, seizing the opportunity, Seamus reached over and pulled Rachel's hat off her head, causing her to whip our her wand and spin around. But it was too late, as everyone saw her hair fall free. It was no longer long and bushy, but shoulder-length and slightly less bushy.

Seamus gave a low whistle. "No wonder you hid it."

_"Hey!"_

"It looks good!" he exclaimed hastily. "What I meant was that it's so different from last year…I was surprised, that's all."

Mrs. Finnigan, who had missed the entire scene, now came out of the tent. "Okay, lads, your tent's ready. Ah, Rachel, darling, I do like your hair. Lasses, I hope you don't mind sharing a tent with me. They're big enough, I think."

Sure enough, they were more than large enough, and soon everybody was warmed up to each other and felt like nary a day had gone by since third year had ended.


	2. The Quidditch World Cup

The night of the match finally arrived, and the Funny Farm made their way to the stadium, from which spasmodic cheering and muffled roars were coming.

"Just a second, guys," Hannah said as they passed a drink stand. "I'm really thirsty. Wait for me, will you?"

"A drink sounds good," Mrs. Finnigan replied. "I think I'll have one, too."

"I wonder how good our seats are," Tanya said conversationally as Hannah and Mrs. Finnigan hurried to the booth.

"Terrible compared to _mine_," replied a sneering voice behind them.

"Shove off, Malfoy," Rachel snarled, but then her eyes fell on the girl standing next to him.

_"Shelby!_" Katelyn cried.

"I thought you dumped her, Malfoy," Tanya said coldly.

"Hey, I have the right to change my mind," he replied, putting his arm around Shelby, who blushed bright pink and giggled loudly.

If looks could kill, Katelyn would be standing triumphantly over Malfoy's dead body right now. But since they don't, she had to content herself with saying, "If you _ever_ hurt her, Malfoy, I will _not_ hesitate to castrate you with either a blunt needle or a wooden spoon—your choice. Are we clear?"

Malfoy thumbed his nose at them all, sneered, and stalked off, Shelby trailing along close behind.

-----------------------------------

"He needs to die," Seamus said calmly as they climbed the stairs inside the stadium.  
"Who?"

"Malfoy, o' course."

Rachel grinned at his blatant Irishness. "That never gets old, Seamus."

"Yeah, well, you're the only one who thinks that," Seamus replied as they filed into their row. Nevertheless, his ears turned pink with pleasure.

Tanya slapped Rachel's shoulders in excitement. "Look! Look! It's starting! Where's your camera?"

Rachel dove into her bag as the voice of Ludo Bagman filled the stadium. "Ladies and gentlemen…welcome! Welcome to the final of the 422nd _Quidditch World Cup!_"

There was a great roar from the crowds, and Rachel started snapping away madly with her Muggle camera. "I've got twenty rolls of film," she explained breathlessly. "It cost me nearly sixty American dollars!"

"And now, without further ado, allow me to introduce—the Bulgarian National Team Mascots!"

"Bloody brilliant!" Seamus and Dean exclaimed in unison as a hundred-odd blonde bimbos pranced onto the pitch and began dancing. On Hannah's left, Dean got out his wand and pointed it at his neck; Seamus had gotten onto the back of one of the chairs and was poised to jump into the next box.

Then the music stopped, and both boys blinked and looked rather surprised to find themselves in those positions. All the same, they booed loudly as the veelas lined up against the sidelines.

"And now," Mr. Bagman continued, "kindly put your wands in the air…for the Irish National Team Mascots!"

The Funny Farm cheered mightily and waved their national anthem-playing flags over their heads as thousands of leprechauns zoomed overhead. "It's your kin, Seamus, it's your kin!" Rachel cried, snapping photo after photo.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, kindly welcome—the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team! I give you—

"Dimitrov!

"Ivanova!

"Zograf!

"Levski!

"Vulchanov!

"Volkov!

_"_Aaand_…Krum!_"

"The youngest person on the team," Dean bellowed over the roar of the crowds. "Only eighteen!"

"And now, please greet—the Irish National Quidditch Team! Presenting—

"Connolly!

"Troy!

"Mullet!

"Moran!

"Quigley!

"Aaaannnd…_Lynch_!"

Seamus and Mrs. Finnigan hooted and hollered; it was hard to believe that Mrs. Finnigan was five months pregnant, she jumped up and down so exuberantly.

"And here, all the way from Egypt, our referee, acclaimed Chairwizard of the International Association of Quidditch, Hassan Mostafa!

"And they're off! And it's Mullet! Troy! Moran! Dimitrov! Back to Mullet! Troy! Levski! Moran!"

The Funny Farm shouted themselves hoarse as they witnessed the most brutal game of Quidditch any of them had ever seen before. The Bulgarian Beaters were bashing those Bludgers so hard that Rachel stopped cheering and wondered aloud just how many push-ups she'd need to do to be able to do that.

"Who cares?" Seamus shouted as Ireland scored.

The rest of the match was just as stupendous as the beginning. Ireland won ("O' course!" Seamus bellowed, hugging Rachel exuberantly in his excitement) but Viktor Krum, the Bulgarian Seeker, got the Snitch, ending the game with a spectacular catch.

"Now, if only we could teach Rachel to play like that," Dean said good-naturedly as they left the stadium, the roar of the celebrating Irish all around them.

_"Hey!"_

Seamus slung an arm around her shoulders and patted her hand. "Don't take it personally, my dearest Sushi. The longest journey begins with a single step."

"Are you saying I'm _that bad_?" she snarled.

"Of course not!" he replied with an energetic grin. "I'm just saying that there's plenty of room for improvement."

"I'd stop if I were you," Dean said warningly.

Seamus glanced at Rachel's face—then did a double take. "You _do_ know I was joking, right, Hekman?" he asked nervously.

"Of course," she replied with a sweet smile. "That's why I'll kill you quickly." But her face broke into a sincerely happy grin. "Actually, I rather enjoy having you all around. Maybe I'll wait to kill you."

"I suppose that's a relief," Haley sighed.


	3. Ku Klux Klan Rejects

It was so loud from the boisterous celebrations of the Irish that none of the Funny Farm would have been able to sleep, even if they'd wanted to. They stayed up into the late hours of the night around the fire pit, celebrating with raucous singing and random bursts of cheering; poignant, moving reminiscence; and comfortable, companionable silence.

But then, around eleven o'clock, a distant shot like a gun startled them all, and Haley abandoned her hilarious anecdote, looking concerned.

"That don't sound like the Irish," Mrs. Finnigan said worriedly.

Another shot went off, this time nearer, and then someone screamed. Suddenly, a tent down the row a ways burst into flames, and everyone began panicking.

"Into the tent!" Mrs. Finnigan cried, shoving them all inside the boys' tent, where they cowered in a corner. "Stay here and don't budge, y'hear?" she said, then pulled out her wand and hurried outside, Haley close behind.

Immediately, Katelyn leapt from her spot behind Dean and ran to the door, poking her head just the tiniest bit out the flap. A second later, she jerked her head back in, white as a sheet.

"What's wrong?" Rachel asked. "Who's out there?"

"They're Ku Klux Klan rejects, you guys!" Katelyn cried, clapping a hand to her mouth in horror.  
"Who…?"

"Death Eaters!"

At this moment, Mrs. Finnigan and Haley hurried back in, their faces whiter than Katelyn's had been. "Get your things, boys," she said quickly. "As much as you can carry. We're going to London early. Haley, be a dear and fetch the girls' things from the tent, if you can."

The Funny Farm slung jackets on and hooked backpacks over their shoulders as Mrs. Finnigan tapped her foot, occasionally saying things like "Don't bother, Tanya, dear, I'll fix it later" and "Seamus Braeden Finnigan! I'll skin you alive if you don't move it!" Haley brought in all their luggage, and they quickly took it.

Together they hurried out of the tent and down the path toward the cottage. People were still screaming, and even more tents were ablaze. They could see now hundreds of hooded wizards marching ominously across the chaotic campground. Four puppet-like figures dangled above their heads.

They didn't get a chance to see more, for Mrs. Finnigan pressed a deflated football into their hands, and then they were gone.

-----------------------------------------

There was a long moment of shocked silence after the Funny Farm landed in the Leaky Cauldron. "What the bloody hell was that?" Seamus said finally.

Mrs. Finnigan looked too stunned to chastise her son's language. "I don't believe it," she murmured, and Haley bit her lips anxiously. "Don't believe what?" Rachel prompted.

"Those hooded wizards we saw were Death Eaters," Mrs. Finnigan said with some difficulty. "They haven't had an open rampage like that since…oh, I don't know—since the Boy Who Lived was born."

The Funny Farm traded glances.

"Now I'm scared," Tanya whispered.

"I think we're too shook up for sleep right now," Mrs. Finnigan said wisely. "How about this—I'll go get us some coffee, and you seven go and sit in the back lounge. There's a nice warm fire and some Witch Weekly magazines if you get bored."

"Let me help you," said Haley, and together they headed to the bar where Tom the innkeeper was wiping out ceramic mugs.

"Shall we, then?" Dean asked, jerking his head toward the lounge. They filed in and stacked their luggage by the door, then stood around awkwardly until Tanya and Katelyn had the sense to find two cushy chairs near the fire and sit down in them. Then they all drifted to the matching loveseat and sofa that were arranged neatly around a coffee table laden with back issues of Witch Weekly and even a few old _London Times_ ("Hitler Dead!") and _Daily Prophets_ ("Two Ministry of Magic Officials Captured and Killed by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named"). The fire flickered reassuringly in the hearth, casting warm shadows on everything.

"So," Dean said finally, flopping down next to Hannah on the sofa. "What do you mates all think about this?"

"I like the rustic look of the decor, myself," Katelyn began, but, seeing everyone's odd looks, she went on, "Oh—you mean about the Death Eaters? Well, it was all very frightening."

"I'll be glad to go back to Hogwarts," Rachel sighed.

"Why's that?" Seamus asked, and adjusted his position on the loveseat so as to see her better.

"Well, Hogwarts is the only place that You-Know-Who's followers won't go, because of Dumbledore," she explained, pulling the pillow out from behind him and hugging it to her body. "It's where we're safest."

Seamus nodded thoughtfully, then picked up a copy of the London Times. "Hey, look at this—the Allies have landed in France! They've begun liberating Europe!"

"Zorro, dearest," Rachel said patiently, "that newspaper is from 1944."

"Oh. Right." He folded the paper with the utmost dignity and placed it back on the table.

The ensuing silence was broken when Haley and Mrs. Finnigan arrived with eight steaming mugs. "They didn't have coffee, dears," Mrs. Finnigan said gently, "so I got us some nice Irish tea. Here you are, loves."

Rachel took the mug and wrapped her fingers around it, holding it under her chin so the steam could warm her cheeks. "Thank you, Mrs. Finnigan."

"You're welcome, love."

Since all the seats were taken, she and Haley went to sit at a little chess table near the fire, where they began discussing an issue of The Dublin Courier that Mrs. Finnigan had taken along.

"Look, Rachel," Hannah said offhandedly. "There's a piano in the corner."

Rachel shot up from her relaxed position. "Really?"

Hannah nodded, and Rachel set her mug down with a clatter and scurried toward the old, weather-beaten upright piano, much to the amusement of her friends. She pulled the scarred bench out from under the keyboard, then lifted the lid and began rifling around in old, yellowed sheet music. "Don't know it…don't know it…" she murmured distractedly, but suddenly she gave a shout of delight. "Know it well! Know it, too! Seamus, could you close the doors for me, please? I don't want to disturb anyone else."

Seamus got up and shut the paned-glass doors of the lounge, then went over to the piano and lit the candles in the sconces on the wall. "Here—now you can see better."

"Thanks, Seamus."

He went and took his seat, and rippling, stirring notes filled the room like sunshine, and Rachel looked more at home than she'd ever looked before.

"What was that called?" Dean asked when she finished.

"_Prelude in C Major_, by Johann Sebastian Bach," she replied. "It's one of my favorites." She immediately put the music on top of the piano and rifled through the pages under the bench lid again; when she'd picked new music, she then went to the long chest next to the piano and lifted the lid. "A veritable goldmine!" she said happily, and quickly picked out a stack of music. She dove deeper into the chest, and then gave a little gasp.

"What?" Katelyn asked.

"There's a guitar in here," she replied. "It looks like the paper's kept it in good condition."

Seamus started from his seat, but Katelyn beat him to it and lifted the instrument from the chest. "Is there a pick…ah, yes, right here." She pulled a chair up and began tuning the guitar.

"You don't play guitar," Rachel said in surprise.

"A little bit," Katelyn replied. "I dabble."

Rachel shrugged. "Do you know this song? We could play together."

"No."

"This one?"

"Never heard of it."

"Well…how about this one?"

"Too difficult."

Rachel sighed. "You have to know this one, Katelyn. It's got only one flat, and it's a Christmas carol."

"Which one?"

"'I Saw Three Ships.'"

"Let's try it," said Katelyn, and so they did. But soon after, Katelyn stopped her and slipped the strap back over her head. "I don't read music, Rachel, so I can't follow along. I told you I only drabble."

Rachel looked crestfallen. "Oh."

"Seamus plays guitar," Mrs. Finnigan called, and Seamus' ears turned pink.

"Would you play with me, Seamus?" Rachel asked. "Please?"

"All right," he grumbled, getting up and taking the guitar from Katelyn and lighting a few more candles. "Now, where are you…"

"Here. You come in at the same place, since it's not a duet."

"Okay. You count in, or me?"

"I will. On four. One, two, three, four."

The rolling notes of "I Saw Three Ships" filled the room, and, despite a few mistakes and slip-ups, the outcome was rather good, and the others applauded enthusiastically.

"Let's play one that's not a Christmas carol," Seamus said, flipping through the sheet music. "Are there any duets for a C instrument in here? Oh, you're kidding."

"What?" Rachel asked, looking over his shoulder. He was holding a yellowed paper with the words "_Danny Boy_—for piano and C instrument" in his hands. "That's perfect," Rachel said enthusiastically, and Seamus gave a flicker of a grin as he looked over the chords.

"Stereotypically Irish," he sighed, handing her the music when he was done, and Rachel arranged it on the piano. "You're going to tease me about this later, aren't you."

"I like this song, Seamus," she said softly, scanning the notes. "I wouldn't tease you about something I like."

"I like it, too."

Rachel smiled. "Okay. You start here, eight measures after I do. It's twelve-eight time, so…"

"I can read music pretty well," he replied. "You don't need to tell me."

"Good," she said with a grin, "because I can't explain anything other than two-four, three-four, four-four, and six-eight. I have to warn you, though," she added, "I like to embellish, so don't follow the time signature too strictly."

"Can do, Su," he said, tuning the guitar. "Key of D, right?"

Rachel nodded. "Ready?"

"Ready."

"On three. One…two…three." Sweet, wistful notes came whispering from the piano, and Seamus leaned closer. The whispering notes then became mezzo piano, until suddenly they faded away almost completely. Then the warm, mellow notes of the old guitar took up the tender melody, and the piano echoed and embraced it like a mountain valley. Mrs. Finnigan was touched, and she mouthed the words with tears in her eyes: 

_"Oh Danny Boy_

_The pipes, the pipes are calling_

_From glen to glen, _

_And down the mountainside._

_The summer's gone, _

_And all the roses falling_

_It's you, it's you, _

_Must go and I must bide._

_But come ye back, _

_When summer's in the meadow_

_Or when the valley's hushed _

_And white with snow_

_It's I'll be there_

_In sunshine or in shadow_

_Oh Danny Boy, Oh Danny Boy_

_I love you so!_

_But when ye come,_

_And all the flowr's are dying,_

_If I am dead, as dead I well may be_

_Ye'll come and find_

_ The place where I am lying_

_And kneel and say an Ave there for me._

_And I shall hear,_

_ Though soft you tread above me_

_And all my grave _

_Will warmer, sweeter be_

_For you will bend_

_ And tell me that you love me_

_And I shall sleep in peace _

_Until you come to me."_

The piano took up the last notes and echoed them with all the poignancy of an old folk flute, until finally, like a last breath of wind, they faded away. 

"Bravo! Bravo!" Mrs. Finnigan cried, clapping exuberantly. Seamus and Rachel flushed with pleasure.

"Excellent work, Seamus," Dean said. "I didn't know you could read music so well. Rachel, I didn't even know you could play piano, much less as brilliantly as you just did."

"I've learned that song before," Seamus admitted.

"So have I," Rachel said sheepishly. "It was nothing new."

"Bloody good job anyway," Dean said with a grin.

"Ditto," Hannah said. "Isn't there an old piano in the Three Broomsticks? You really should put on a show, or something."  
"I'll sing," Katelyn volunteered.

Rachel and Seamus grinned, both rightly pleased with their musical accomplishments. "You play wonderfully," she said.  
"You too," he replied, and they shook hands.

"I think it's time for bed," Mrs. Finnigan interrupted.

"Why now?" Katelyn said.

"Because Tanya's already out cold," Hannah informed her. She was right—Tanya, lulled to sleep by the soothing music, was sprawled out in her chair and snoring lightly.

"Tanya, love," Mrs. Finnigan whispered, gently shaking the girl.

"Mmph," Tanya replied.

"Time for bed."

"Already? Okay, but let me just finish this one waltz." And she dozed off again.

There was a surprised silence, and then all seven of them began laughing. "Seriously, children, there's nothing fun about being grouches in the morning," Mrs. Finnigan said, attempting to mask her smile.

When nobody showed any effort to move, she said, "Last one upstairs gets short-sheeted!"

And the lounge was clear in an instant. 


	4. Karaoke Night at the Leaky Cauldron

The next day was filled with…shopping. Mrs. Finnigan had brought them to Diagon Alley late after lunch, much to the abhorrence of the fourth years. "We can either do it now and beat the crowds, or do it later in a frenzy," she said, after the six teenagers complained of sudden bouts of malaria and broken limbs.

"Later in a frenzy," Seamus said.

"Too bad, Seamus. We're shopping today, and that's that."

At nine o'clock, four hours later, laden with bags from Flourish and Blotts, Madam Malkin's, Quality Quidditch Supplies, Eeylops Owl Emporium, and the Apothecary, eight weary shoppers slumped back into the Leaky Cauldron, nursing sore feet and drained pocketbooks.

"Oh, shopping, how I loathe thee," Katelyn moaned, dropping her bags on the floor and flexing her tired arms.

"Oh, pretending to be like Shakespeare, how I loathe thee," Rachel said testily.

Katelyn stuck her tongue out at her friend, and Seamus quickly stepped between them before an argument could begin.

"I think we're all much too tired," Mrs. Finnigan said. "I'll not be having you go off to school with only a few hours of sleep. We've already eaten, so I want you all to take your things upstairs, pack for school, and go to bed."

"Right away," Haley added for good measure.

"All right, all right," they all groaned, and one by one filed up the stairs.

"I'm so excited for school," Rachel said when the girls were all in their room. She pulled her new school robes out of the bag and smelled them deeply before folding them neatly and placing them in her trunk.

"No kidding," Haley said. "Fourth year was a blast for me and Oliver."

"You two didn't start going out until fifth," Hannah put in.

"I know," Haley replied. "But it was fun nonetheless."

"Does anyone want candy?" Tanya asked brightly, holding up a multicolored cardboard box. "I got it at Honeydukes'."

"What does it do?" Katelyn asked curiously.

"It says here: 'Entertain multitudes with your amazing singing abilities! Complete with music and words.' As an example, I'll go first." She jumped up and picked a chocolate brown candy from the box, and then popped it into her mouth. A moment passed, then bright piano music issued from what seemed like her ears. Then she opened her mouth, the nasally, witty voice of Tom Lehrer filling the room.

"From the Bible to the popular song, 

_There's one theme that we find right along._

_Of all ideals we hail as good,_

_The most sublime is motherhood._

_There was a man, though, who it seems,_

_Once carried this ideal to extremes._

_He loved his mother and she loved him,_

_And yet his story—is rather grim."_

"I love this song!" Rachel cried as there was a brief musical interlude.

_"There once lived a man named Oedipus Rex._

_You may have heard about his odd complex._

_His name appears in Freud's index,_

_'Cause he loved his mother!_

_His rivals used to say quite a bit_

_That as a monarch he was most unfit._

_But still, in all, they had to admit_

_That he loved his mother!_

_Yes, he loved his mother like no other._

_His daughter was his sister and his son was his brother._

_One thing on which you can depend is,_

_He sure knew who a boy's best friend is._

_When he found what he had done,_

_He tore his eyes out, one by one._

_A tragic end to a loyal son_

_Who loved his mother!_

_So be sweet and kind to mother,_

_Now and then, have a chat._

_Buy her candy or some flowers or a brand new hat._

_But maybe you had better let it go at that._

_Or you may find yourself with a quite complex complex,_

_And you may end up like Oedipus._

_I'd rather marry a duck-billed platypus_

_Than end up like old Oedipus Rex!"_

Tanya swept a deep bow and pranced back to her bed as the other girls clapped and laughed. "I'll go next," said Katelyn. She jumped up and chose a bright blue candy, and the chorus-y voices of the Beatles came from her mouth.

"In the town where I was born 

_Lived a man who sailed the seas._

_And he told us of his life_

_In the land of submarines._

_So we sailed into the sun_

_'Till we found a sea of green_

_And we lived beneath the waves_

_In our yellow submarine_

_We all live in a yellow submarine_

_Yellow submarine_

_Yellow submarine._

_We all live in a yellow submarine_

_Yellow submarine_

_Yellow submarine._

_And our friends are all aboard_

_Many more of them live next door_

_And the band begins to play—_

_We all live in a yellow submarine_

_Yellow submarine_

_Yellow submarine._

_We all live in a yellow submarine _

_Yellow submarine _

_Yellow submarine._

_As we live a life of ease_

_Every one of us has all we need_

_Sky of blue and sea of green_

_In our yellow submarine_

_We all live in a yellow submarine_

_Yellow submarine_

_Yellow submarine._

_We all live in a yellow submarine _

_Yellow submarine _

_Yellow submarine._

_We all live in a yellow submarine_

_Yellow submarine_

_Yellow submarine._

_We all live in a yellow submarine _

_Yellow submarine _

_Yellow submarine."_

"Good job, Katelyn," Hannah laughed as Katelyn gave a smart salute. "Is it my turn?"

Tanya tossed her a red candy, and Hannah stuck it into her mouth. _"It's late in the evening,"_ she crooned, swaying back and forth.

_"She's wondering what clothes to wear._

_She puts on her makeup_

_And brushes her long blonde hair._

_And then she asks me 'Do I look all right?'_

_And I say, 'Yes, you look wonderful tonight.'_

_We go to a party_

_And everyone turns to see_

_This beautiful lady that's walking around with me._

_And then she asks me 'Do you feel all right?'_

_And I say 'Yes, I feel wonderful tonight.'_

_I feel wonderful_

_Because I see the love light in your eyes_

_And the wonder of it all_

_Is that you just don't realize_

_How much I love you._

_It's time to go home now_

_And I've got an aching head_

_So I give her the car keys_

_She helps me to bed_

_And then I tell her_

_As I turn out the light_

_I say 'My darling, you were wonderful tonight._

_Oh my darling, you were wonderful tonight.'"_

Muffled pounding on the wall spoiled Hannah's grand curtsy. "Will you all _shut the bloody hell up?_" Seamus roared from the next room. "We mortals are trying to get some sleep!"

Haley rolled her eyes and chose a shiny purple candy, hopping to her feet as soft guitar and string music filled the room. She opened her mouth, and the smooth, sultry voice of Anne Murray came out.

_"I'm strong, I'm sure, I'm in control, a lady with a plan_

_Believing that life is a neat little package I hold in my hand._

_I've got it together, they call me the girl 'who knows just what to say and do.'_

_But I stumble and fall, run into a wall, 'cause when it comes to you, I'm_

_Just another woman in love, a kid out of school,_

_A fire out of control, just another fool._

_You touch me and I'm weak, I'm a feather in the wind,_

_And I can't wait to feel you touchin' me again._

_With you I'm just another woman, just another woman in love._

_So pardon me if I should stare and tremble like a child._

_That "wanting you" look all over your face is driving me wild._

_I'm just what you make me, can't wait till you take me_

_And set all my feelin's free_

_I know that you can_

_So come be my man,_

_Tonight I wanna be_

_Just another woman in love, a kid out of school_

_A fire out of control, just another fool._

_Touch me and I'm weak, I'm a feather in the wind,_

_And I can't wait to feel you touchin' me again_

_With you I'm just another woman, just another woman in love."_

"I know who _she_ was thinking of," Rachel said mischievously as Haley sighed happily and sat down.

"Your turn," Hannah replied, handing her the box.

Rachel picked out a pink candy and began sucking on it, then leapt up happily and began playing air guitar as driving electric filled the room. Soon, the familiar _Shrek_ music got all the girls bouncing up and down.

_"Well, I thought love was only true in fairy tales,_

_Meant for someone else, but not for me._

_Love was out to get me_

_That's the way it seemed_

_Disappointment haunted all my dreams._

_And then I saw her face!_

_Now I'm a believer_

_Not a trace_

_Of doubt in my mind:_

_I'm in love! Ooo…_

_I'm a believer!_

_I couldn't leave her if I tried._

_Well, I thought love was more or less all empathy._

_The more I gave, the less I got, oh, yeah._

_What's the use of tryin'? All you get is pain._

_When I wanted sunshine I got rain…_

_And then I saw her face!_

_Now I'm a believer._

_Not a trace_

_Of doubt in my mind:_

_I'm in love! Ooo…_

_I'm a believer!_

_I couldn't leave her if I tried._

_What's the use of tryin'? All you get is pain._

_When I wanted sunshine _I got rain!

And then I saw her face! 

_Now I'm a believer_

_Not a trace_

_Of doubt in my mind:_

_I'm in love! Ooo…_

_I'm a believer!_

_I couldn't leave her if I tried._

And then I saw her fay-ace!

_Now I'm a believer_

_Not a tra-ay-ay-ace_

_Of doubt in my mind:_

_Now I'm a believer,_

_Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah-ah-ah-ah!_

_Now I'm a believer!_

_Then I saw her face…"_

Rachel trailed off as she realized that her audience had stopped dancing. "Don't tell me," she said wearily. "Seamus and Dean have come to enforce their complaint in person and caught me singing the most embarrassing song _ever_."

"You're psychic," Katelyn said dryly.

Rachel whirled about, her face turning red as a beet. "How much did you hear?"

"Enough," Seamus said with a grin. "Can I see that box, Tanya?"

Tanya handed it to him, and he pulled a green one out. Before the girls could stop him, the first strains of Billy Joel's "The Longest Time" filled the room.

_"Whoa, oh-oh-oh, for the longest time._

_Whoa, oh-oh, for the longest—_

_If you said goodbye to me tonight,_

_There would still be music left to write._

_What else could I do?_

_I'm so inspired by you._

_That hasn't happened for the longest time._

_Once I thought my innocence was gone._

_Now I know that happiness goes on._

_That's where you found me_

_When you put your arms around me._

_I haven't been there for the longest time._

_Whoa, oh-oh-oh, for the longest time._

_Whoa, oh-oh, for the longest—_

_I'm that voice you're hearing in the hall._

_And the greatest miracle of all,_

_Is how I need you,_

_And how you needed me, too._

_That hasn't happened for the longest time._

_Maybe this won't last very long_

_But you feel so right—I could be wrong_

_Maybe I've been hopin' too hard_

_But I've gone this far_

_And it's more than I hoped for._

_Who knows how much further we'll go on?_

_Baby, I'll be sorry when you're gone_

_I'll take my chances_

_I forgot how nice romance is_

_I haven't been there for the longest time._

_I had said good thoughts at the start_

_I said to myself, 'Hold on to your heart.'"_

_Now I know the woman that you are._

_You're wonderful so far,_

_And it's more than I hoped for._

_I don't care what consequence it brings_

_I have been a fool for lesser things_

_I want you so bad_

_I think you ought to know that_

_I intend to hold you for the longest time!_

_Whoa, oh-oh, for the longest time._

_Whoa, oh-oh, for the longest time…_

_Whoa, oh-oh, for the longest time._

_Whoa, oh-oh, for the longest time…"_

_(A/N: "Oedipus Rex" belongs to the brilliant Tom Lehrer. "Yellow Submarine" belongs to the Fab Four, the Beatles. "Wonderful Tonight" belongs to Eric Clapton. "Just Another Woman in Love" belongs to the ultra-feminine Anne Murray. "I'm a Believer" belongs to the rockin' band Smash Mouth. And last but not least, "The Longest Time" belongs to the super-romantic Billy Joel. Look them up and listen to the real things, I insist!)_


	5. Seamus and Rachel Argue AGAIN!

"Rise and shine, sleepy heads!"

"Mam, just five more minutes, please."

Mrs. Finnigan ignored her soon-to-be middle child and shook the others awake. "I've let you sleep until ten o'clock. You've all got to be on the Hogwarts Express in an hour."

Tanya stretched and yawned deeply. "I'm so _tired_!"

"And _that's_ because you were up until four this morning."

Dean sat up and gave a hoarse cough. "Did we _sleep_ in here, Seamus?"

Seamus raised his head from the chair and looked blearily around the room. "Guess so," he yawned, stretching until he was nearly parallel to the floor.

Rachel sat up and slowly ran a hand through her hair. "It looks like we all just fell asleep where we sat."

It was true. Dean had curled up on the floor with a Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook for a pillow; Seamus had stretched himself across the only chair; Tanya was emerging from between the wardrobe and the wall; Katelyn was rolling out from under a pile of blankets in the corner; and only Hannah, Haley, and Rachel had had the sense to get in bed.

"You know," Katelyn said groggily, "if I were actually awake, I'd be horrified at the rooming situation right now."

Mrs. Finnigan shooed the boys out of the girls' room. "Half an hour, you lot, then it's breakfast and Hogwarts!"

A simultaneous groan went up from six sore and sleepy throats.

---------------------------

"Coffee…" Katelyn moaned an hour later as the Hogwarts Express rolled out of the station. "Must…have…coffee…"

"Need…caffeine…" Rachel echoed.

The _Funny_ Farm was the worst name ever for this lot of zombies, they figured. Once one person yawned, the whole compartment (which seemed significantly small than it had in second year) was set off yawning huge yawns. Gargantuan yawns. _Titanic_ yawns!

"You were such a ham last night, Zorro," Rachel said sleepily, patting Seamus' arm. "I never knew you possessed such amazing dancing skills."

"Oh, shut up," he replied good-naturedly. "You heard Dean's rendition of 'Great Balls of Fire.'"

Tanya was the first to nod off.

Then Hannah, who dropped her head right onto Dean's shoulder, then Dean himself, then Katelyn, and then Seamus.

"I will not fall asleep," Rachel told herself. "I will not fall asleep," she repeated out loud. "Sleep is for wusses."

The compartment door slid open, and a little leprechaun wearing wooden shoes floated in. "You don't need to sleep, lass, when you can come with us!" And she soared right out of the Hogwarts Express to a lush green field filled with shamrocks and windmills.

"Dance with us!" a chorus of little elfin voices was saying. "Wake up! Dance! Rachel! Wake…

"Rachel? Hello-o…"

She opened her eyes blearily to see Hermione Granger's familiar bushy brown hair and brown eyes. "Meh…? Oh…hi, Hermione."

Her friend beamed at her. "Good to see you all again!"

Rachel lifted her head and rubbed at her left cheek, which was all hot and stiff. "I see you've already got your uniform on."

"I see you and Seamus don't."

"Lazy," she teased the Irishman, stretching. "At least _I_ have an excuse."

"Little brat-child. I have an excuse just as good as yours."

"Oh, yeah? Let's hear it."

"Yours first."

"I was asleep."

"Well," Seamus said with infuriating superiority, _"you_, dear Sushi, claimed my shoulder as a pillow."

She gasped. "I'm contaminated! _Augh!_ Finnigan germs!"

_"Cooties!"_ Seamus had the misfortune that his voice cracked when he said the word, and was immediately made to wait until his companions had stopped laughing.

"That was too funny," Hermione said breathlessly.

"That was _hilarious_!" Tanya shrieked, her face turning quite red with mirth.

Katelyn chose that moment to look out the compartment window. "Uh, guys? I see Hogwarts."

"We need to change," Seamus and Rachel said in unison.

The girls shooed the boys out of the compartment so Rachel could quickly get into her uniform before the Hogwarts Express groaned to a stop at Hogsmeade Station.

"That was too close for comfort," Hannah sighed as the Funny Farm got into one of the many horseless carriages that awaited them.

"Yeah," Rachel replied. "Let's try not to have a karaoke bash the night before an important day again. This is the first time I've even been _this_ sleepy." She gave another gigantic yawn, right in front of Seamus' face.

"Ugh!" Seamus flung his arms in front of his face. "I don't want any more of your _cooties_, Hekman. Besides. You _really_ need a breath mint."

Rachel's face turned bright red with anger. "Well, thank you very much, _Mr._ Finnigan," she said heatedly. "The next time I come near you, I'll remember that you don't want my germs. In fact, I just might never come near you again!"

"Fine!" Seamus shouted.

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

"FINE!"

_"Shut up!" _someone else interrupted.

Rachel and Seamus both looked at the rest of the Funny Farm in great confusion. Their question was immediately answered when Dean, Katelyn, and Tanya all pointed at once towards Hannah, who was breathing heavily and had her fists clenched in her lap.

"Hannah..?" Rachel began.

"Yes, it was me," Hannah cried. "I'm sick and tired of all this fighting! I was just starting to hope that you and Seamus would finally act like the good friends you are and actually _get along_ this year! But apparently not! All I wanted was one year where you two at least _pretend_ like you're truly fond of each other, but that will never happen if you and Seamus refuse to _get over your differences_!"

And with that, Hannah went back to being her quiet old self.

After a few moments of awkward silence, Tanya pointed out the window and exclaimed, "Oh, good. We're here!"


	6. Dumbledore Blabs

As they entered the Great Hall to begin a new year, nothing seemed any more out of the ordinary than usual. Seamus and Rachel were shooting each other looks that clearly said 'I-hate-your-guts-so-do-us-all-a-favor-and-go-jump-off-the-Astronomy-tower' (nothing odd about that) and the teachers watched expectantly as the students filed in.

"Only ten months until he's gone, only ten months until he's gone," Rachel chanted softly, taking a seat between Tanya and Hannah. They were all quite damp as a direct result of Peeves' welcome-back balloon bath. Of course, the raging storm outside didn't help a bit.

Dean and Seamus whispered and sniggered the entire Sorting ceremony, from the Hat's song to "Whitby, Kevin," earning themselves quite a few glares from the surrounding students. This all flew straight out of their minds, however, as the plates in front of them filled with food.

"I'll fit into those size 2 dress robes I got last month, don't worry," a haughty-looking sixth year was saying to her heavily-rouged friend.

Rachel shot her a hurt look. "Easy for _you_ to say."

"Biotch," the girl snapped.

Rachel looked quite taken aback.

"Don't worry, Su, _I_ like your gown," Katelyn soothed.

"No, no, I really like _yours_!"

This caught the attention of the two baboons sitting nearby. "What do they look like?" Dean asked.

"None of your business," Hannah replied, though obviously enjoying the attention.

"Are they _hot_?" Seamus cut in.

Their entire section of the table fell silent. "Well," Katelyn said stiffly after an awkward pause, "I suppose it's rather comforting to know they _are_ human, after all…"

"Human? Katelyn, check your glasses prescription. Those creeps are from Mars."

"Uranus," Tanya corrected, not quite grasping the joke.

The Martians/creeps/baboons/boys began laughing uncontrollably. Tanya's face reddened as she finally understood, and she joined the ranks of disgusting girls sending disgusted looks at the disgusting boys.

Not at all soon enough, Dumbledore stood up and administered his welcome-back speech. "…As ever, I would like to remind you all that the forest is out-of-bounds to students, as is the village of Hogsmeade to all below third year.

"It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year."

Rachel dropped her knife with a loud clatter and gasped.

"This is due to an even that will be starting in October," Dumbledore went on, "taking up much of the teachers' time and energy—but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts—"

His next words were drowned out as the doors to the Great Hall slammed open and a one-legged man stomped in. He had one normal eye, but the other one was electric blue and swiveled around and around. A huge chunk of his nose was missing, and hundreds of scars crisscrossed his face.

The entire Great Hall watched in silence as the man stumped up between the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw tables towards Dumbledore, who grasped his hand and muttered to him.

"May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" Dumbledore said. "Professor Moody."

No one clapped. "Wicked eye!" Seamus said loudly.

_"Ahem,"_ said Dumbledore. "As I was saying, we have the honor of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event that has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."

"You're _joking!"_ one of the Weasley twins said loudly.

Everyone laughed, and Dumbledore grinned. "I am _not_ joking, Mr. Weasley, though now that you mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun who all go into a bar—"

_"Ahem."_

"Er—but perhaps this is not the time…no…where was I? Ah, yes, the Triwizard Tournament…well, some of you will not know what this tournament involves, so I hope those who _do_ know will forgive me for giving a short explanation, and allow their attention to wander freely."

As the female sector of the Funny Farm were all avid readers and very interested in the history of wizardkind, they'd all either read about the Triwizard Tournament or been told by the others. Therefore, they immediately rested their elbows on the table, and soon their eyes glazed over as they each drifted into their own private thoughts.

Suddenly, Lavender Brown sent one of those annoying "pass-it-on" pokes down the line, snapping the girls back to attention. "The heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving with their short-listed contenders in October, and the selection of the three champions will take place at Halloween. An impartial judge will decide which students are most worthy to compete for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of their school, and a thousand Galleons personal prize money."

"A thousand Galleons?" Katelyn gasped. "Sign me up!"

"Eager though I know all of you will be to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts—"

"Oh, great," Tanya sighed. "Here comes the catch."

"—only students who are of age—that is to say, seventeen years or older—will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration. This is a measure we feel is necessary, given that the tournament tasks will still be difficult and dangerous, whatever precaution we take, and it is highly unlikely that students below sixth and seventh year will be able to cope with them. I will personally be ensuring that no underage students hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts champion. I therefore beg you not to waste your time submitting yourself if you are under seventeen."

"Ah, man," Katelyn said, slumping onto the table in disappointment.

"The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October and remaining with us for the greater part of this year," Dumbledore went on. "I know that you will all extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us—"

"Depends on if they're Middle-Eastern or not," someone whispered, but looking around showed every face wide and innocent.

"—and will give your whole-hearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected. And now, it is late, and I know how important it is to you all to be alert and rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow morning. Bedtime! Chop, chop!"


	7. Oh, Look, They're Arguing Again

Rachel and Seamus had another row at breakfast the next day. Over something trivial, if you'd believe it.

"Pass the sausages," Seamus said to Rachel, keeping his eyes on his plate.

"I don't have them."

"Yes, you do."

_"No_. I do _not_."

"Stop the games and just give me the damn sausages."

_"I. Don't. Have. Your. Damn. Sausages."_

_"Why_ do I not believe you?"

"Because you're stupid?"

"Oh, so now _I'm_ stupid!'

"Yes! You're stupid!"

"Hey, you two, maybe you should sit down," Tanya said nervously. They had gotten up from the table in an attempt to give the illusion that one was taller than the other. Dominance issues; you probably wouldn't understand.

"Well, needless to say who belongs to the smallest country in Europe!"

"The king of 'the smallest country in Europe,' William of Orange, _creamed_ your stupid King Edward!"

"Pushover, Willy was."

"Just like you!"

Seamus arranged a smug look on his face. "But _I'm_ taller than you."

"Oh, _yeah_?"

"Yeah!"

"Guys, who's taller?"

"Erm…back to back," Hannah said apprehensively.

The two got into position, both standing ramrod-straight. "Um…Seamus _is_ taller…you reach his ear…"

Rachel stepped away, shocked. How had she not noticed before? But it was obvious now; her line of vision was level with his nose. Her shoulders sagged, and she was about to admit defeat when Seamus spun around—

And laughed at her.

For those of you who do not know Rachel personally, the one thing she hates more than being wrong, is being _laughed_ at when she's wrong. Seamus ought to have known better, but we won't argue on his behalf here.

"Seamus, _knock it off_," Rachel hissed, her hands balling into fists.

"Oho," Seamus cackled gleefully, "the great omniscient one _isn't_ omniscient, after all! Ha, ha!"

"Cut it out," she snarled, and lunged for his jugular vein. He danced out of her reach and laughed at her attempt.

Needless to say, Rachel saw red, and no lie. The last straw snapped into a million pieces, and she reached back her hand and slapped Seamus full across the mouth.

The rest of the Funny Farm bolted out of their seats to restrain their friends, because it was clear that they _wanted each other's blood._ And that goes against the Funny Farm Golden Rule No. 24: _No Brawling._

"Why must you be so damn difficult?" Rachel cried, struggling against her restrainers.

Seamus stuck his tongue out at her.

With a screech like a scalded cat, Rachel wrenched free of Tanya's iron grip, grabbed her book bag, and stomped out of the Great Hall.

_"Now_ you've done it," Katelyn said dryly.

_"Me_? What have _I_ done?"

"Don't start with me, too, Mister," Katelyn warned. "You haven't been very nice to Rachel at all lately."

"Making fun of her hair."

"Yelling at her for singing."

"Blaming her for sleeping on your shoulder when _you're_ the one who didn't want to wake her in the first place."

"Insulting her Quidditch skills."

"Not noticing her braces were—"

"I get the point, I get the point," Seamus said in annoyance. "I just—wait. What about her braces?"

"She got them off over the holiday. Didn't you notice? You really hurt her feelings."

Seamus shook his head sullenly and was cross and crabby to everyone (including the teachers) until dinner.

----------

The female end of the Funny Farm were hanging out in the Entrance Hall when Malfoy began causing trouble—again.

They watched impassively, not wanting to seem nosy, as Harry not-so-subtly brushed Malfoy off. Not that they blamed him. Actually, they admired him for not hauling off and whacking Malfoy one, which (Rachel was very proud of this incident) they'd done last year. Harry was a great guy. No—

"Harry!" Katelyn cried as Draco pulled out his wand and made to hex Harry as the bespectacled boy turned to go.

"OH, NO, YOU DON'T, LADDIE!"

Everyone froze.

Mad-Eye Moody, their new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, stumped through a ring of curious students towards the now-shivering white ferret that was cowering on the flagstones. But Shelby beat him to it, and was just about to scoop the animal up in her arms.

"LEAVE IT!"

The pixie-like blonde jumped and instantly dropped Draco Malfoy, Ferret, to the floor.

Unrestrained laughter burst forth from every student then as Moody hexed the ferret, bouncing him off the flagstones and into the air. That laughter immediately died away as McGonagall swooped down upon Moody from seemingly nowhere, and each student quickly began whistling and hastened off to inform their classmates.

"You'll _never_ guess what just happened," Hannah gushed when they met Dean and Seamus in the hall a moment later.

"Snape had a heartattack?" Seamus asked hopefully.

"Not quite," Tanya replied. "Actually, Moody turned Draco Malfoy into a _ferret_!"

There was a shocked silence. "Really?" Dean breathed finally.

Rachel nodded happily and sighed. "It was the best day of my entire life."

-----------------

Evening…the best time of day. On that particular late afternoon, Katelyn was sitting in a comfy chair by the snapping Common Room fire, warming up her vocal chords. "_Summer air was heavy and sweet, you and I on a crowded street…there was music everywhere. I can see us there. In a happy little foreign town, where the stars are upside down, a half a world away, far, far away."_

"That's a good song."

She turned to see a blonde and blue-eyed fifth year coming towards her. Wes Marks, if she remembered correctly. "Yeah, it is."

Wes sat down on a nearby chair and stuck out his hand. "Wes. Wes Marks."

So she'd been right. "Katelyn Barcanic."

"Oh," he said, nodding.

"Oh, what?"

"You're friends with that couple that's always so entertaining."

"Huh?"

"You know, the tall girl with the long nose and the Irishman with the sort of dark blonde hair. They never fail to amuse us. It's like having our own little Gryffindor soap opera."

Katelyn shut her eyes with the irony of it all. "Rachel and Seamus? Oh, you've got to be kidding me. They hate each other at the moment, and would rather die than _fancy_ each other. That's what they _say_, anyway."

"Hah." Wes grinned, and Katelyn felt unashamed fluttering in her stomach.

"Oy! Wes!"

Wes looked up. "Yeah, be right there. Sorry, Katelyn, gotta go."

"Yeah. See ya."

"See ya around."

Katelyn watched him go, and she was in no denial afterwards about the way she hungered for his glances.


	8. Seamus Is Not A Frog! Or Is He?

"Defense Against the Dark Arts? With Mad-Eye? Cool."

"Yeah."

The Funny Farm had just finished lunch and were eagerly awaiting what was heralded to be 'the awesomest Defense Against the Dark Arts class ever!'

"He can't be much better than Lupin. I mean, come on." Dean flicked a bit of dirt off his sleeve.

"Well, he's supposedly an ex-Auror," Katelyn replied.

"_That_ should be pretty cool," Rachel said, adjusting her glasses.

"Oh, shut up," said Seamus, who was still stinging from the insult of being slapped by a girl. Much less his friend. She scowled at him.

"Oh, look, a drinking fountain!" Hannah said too cheerfully, trying desperately to dissolve the tension in the air.

"Good, we're thirsty." Katelyn grabbed Rachel's arm and marched her toward the porcelain-and-stone wall fixture.

"Oo, water!" Tanya said, bounding over, her wild blonde ponytail bouncing in time with her steps. She turned the knob on the side and sucked eagerly from the gentle spray of water that arched out of the gargoyle's mouth.

"Ugh, gross, Tanya's drinking monster upchuck," Dean said. Seamus laughed appreciatively, and Tanya backed away from the water fountain with a dignified expression.

"Ignore, ignore," Rachel sighed, and bent over to get a drink.

Suddenly, Seamus darted forward—and shoved Rachel's face under the water. She lurched backwards, coughing and sputtering.

"Are you okay?" Katelyn asked, horrified.

"Well," Rachel gasped, wiping her face, "a third of the water was sucked into my lungs. Another third got slopped down my front. The other third got up my nose. So…may I kill him now?"

"No Muggle violence," Hannah warned.

"No problem," Rachel snarled, and whipped out her wand.

Seamus realized the immediate and probably mortal danger he was in, and so took off down the hall towards the safety of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.

"_Amphibius Transfigurus_!" Rachel cried, and pointed her wand at Seamus' retreating back. There was a flash of light, and when they looked down the hall, Seamus was nowhere in sight.

"Oh, shoot," Rachel said, going over and kneeling by the spot where he'd been. "I was so hoping he'd turn into a toad."  
"What did he turn into?" Tanya asked fearfully.

Rachel picked something off the ground and held it up with a grin. "A frog!"_  
_

* * *

_  
(A/N¡Valgame Dios! Or, if you don't speak Spanish, Great Scott! I didn't think it'd be this shamefully short._

What I (Sushi) listened to while typing: "**Take You Back**" by Jeremy Camp. "**Yellow**" by Coldplay. "**Philosophers Drinking Song**" by Monty Python (don't ask). "**Ashokan Farewell**" by Jay Ungar. "**In the Blink of an Eye**" by MercyMe. "**Irish Washerwoman**" by a group of bagpipes (go figure). "**Knights of the Round Table**" by Monty Python. "**The Cuckoo's Nest**" by Nickel Creek. (I have a lot of random stuff on my computer, I know.)  



	9. Secrets Revealed! Cue Evil Laughter!

Everyone stared at the little green tree frog that was croaking helplessly in Rachel's hands. "You can _do_ that?" Katelyn said hoarsely.

Rachel shrugged. "Well, sort of. Look. He's still got human eyes. And he's wearing tiny shoes."

"But you're in fourth year Transfig," Hannah protested.

Rachel shook her head. "I'm not in your class, haven't you guys noticed? I'm in _fifth_ year Transfiguration. That's why I have Transfig while you guys have Astronomy. When I have Astronomy, you guys have Transfig. I have to take Astronomy with fourth year Ravenclaws, and let me tell you, it get pretty bor—_hello_!" Seamus had just made a desperate bid for freedom, and it was only with extreme agility and quicksilver movements that Rachel was able to catch him in time. "You wouldn't want to fall, dearest Zorro," she crooned. "You'd die."

Seamus croaked darkly.

"What's he saying?" Dean asked curiously.

"He's just confessed his undying love for me," Rachel replied with a grin, stroking Seamus' slimy green head.

"That was a nice bit o' Transfiguration work there, lassie."

They all jumped and whipped around to see Mad-Eye Moody stumping down the hall towards them. "Oh," Rachel stammered. "I, uh…t-thank you."

His magical blue eye focused on the frog she held in her hands. "I don't think you want your friend there to be late for his first Defense Against the Dark Arts class, however."

Rachel gulped. "I…uh…don't know the countercurse, Professor Moody—sir."

"There _is_ no countercurse!" he barked, scaring them all half to death.

"There's _not_?"

"No, there isn't. What you have to do is this." He pulled out his wand, jerked it slightly, and said, "_Humanus Transfigurus_!"

_"OW_!"

"Come along, lad, it's not nice to land on girls," Moody said, helping Seamus to his feet.

"Yeah, Finnigan," Rachel groaned, now lying spread-eagled on the ground, laid low by the sudden weight of Seamus on her stomach. Moody took her hand and hauled her up, too. Seamus made a furious move towards her, but Mad-Eye grabbed the hood of his robe just in time. "Down, laddie. Say you're sorry to this young woman."

"Sorry, Rachel," Seamus growled.

"Apology accepted," Rachel said haughtily.

"Now, lassie," Mad-Eye went on, "you apologize to your classmate here."

"Sorry, Seamus," she sighed.

"Apology accepted," he said, crossing his arms.

Rachel stuck her tongue out at him.

-----------------------------------------

Despite their original trepidations, the Funny Farm's first two months of classes went encouragingly well. Their homework load remained at a relatively sane amount, and that Friday they'd get out early from Potions—the delegations from the French and Bulgarian schools were arriving, and that meant Kim for Katelyn and enlightening foreign mingling for Hannah and Rachel (Tanya was just looking forward to the action of the Triwizard Tournament). But best of all, perhaps, were the letters that they got late Thursday afternoon.

_"AAAAHHHHHH!_"

"What? Who died? Where'd they go? _What?_"

Hannah came running into the room with a huge grin and chucked five cream-colored envelopes into Tanya's, Rachel's, Katelyn's, Dean's, and Seamus' laps. "Lookie, lookie, lookie!"

"What-ie, what-ie, what-ie?"

"Well, open them. _Duh._"

So they slit open the envelopes.

"You Are Invited to Attend" 

the headline said in curly letters. It continued thus:

The union of Oliver S. Wood and Haley R. Schreiter 

_in holy matrimony_

_this __twenty-third day of December 2005_

_at 11:00 am.  
The ceremony will take place_

_at_

Our Blessed Lady of Saints Cathedral 

_24__th__ Street_

_London, England._

_The reception will be held _

_at_

_Cambridge Bros. Banquet Hall_

_The Reverend Thomas Towne will be presiding._

_The bride is registered at Barnes and Noble, Target, and Toys 'R' Us._

"They're really getting married!"

Everyone looked up at Seamus. "Well, yeah."

"I thought…I thought they were just…joking," he said lamely.

Everyone shook their heads. "Where've _you_ been?" Katelyn asked.

He flushed.

_"I_ know," Fred Weasley said with a mischievous grin. "He's been kissing Rachel the past three years."

"I have _not_!" he said indignantly.

"Ah, but you've been _thinking_ about it for the past three years," George replied with an equally wicked look.

"Have not!" Seamus protested. "It's only been one and a half! Oops."

Fred and George collapsed on each other in hysterics, and poor Seamus' face turned white as a sheet, but his ears remained beet red.

"You look like a turnip!" Katelyn shrieked.

Fred and George jumped up from their seats and danced around the common room, singing, "Seamus and Rachel, sittin' in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G! First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes a baby in a baby carriage! Ahahahaha…"

Rachel stuffed her fingers in her ears and looked mortified. "I did _not_ just hear that."

Hannah grinned and held up an invisible violin, making scratchy Hitchcock-string sounds.

"But—but," Seamus stuttered, nearly shouting to make himself heard over the general chaos of people laughing. "But _Dean's_ been thinking of kissing _Hannah,_ too!"

It was suddenly so silent that you could've heard a pin drop. Dean had long since ceased his sniggering and now just sat limply in his chair, bright red. And then Rachel began to laugh. It didn't take everyone else long to join in, and soon Hannah was blushing, too.

"Let me tell you," Rachel said in a low voice, "you make a _much_ cuter couple with Dean than I did."

Hannah blushed even more and smashed her invisible violin against her forehead.


	10. I See French People

(A/N from Sushi: sigh I **love** typing/writing this series. People actually review and say they like it! Nothing like my stuff on FictionPress. It's so frustrating how the Civil War stories I do goes unnoticed! grr It's like doing months of research for a term paper and then your teacher doesn't grade it. Tons of work—no feedback!

Anyway, done with my ranting. Onto Chapter Ten!)

-------------------------

At 5:55 Friday night, everyone was lined up on the lawn in front of the castle. First years stood in front, second years behind them, third years behind _them_, and so on.

"I can't see."

"Miss Schreiter, if you can't see, kindly get stronger glasses."

"Yes, Professor." Hannah glanced up at Rachel, who stood next to her. "Can you be my eyes?" she asked the significantly taller girl.

"Of course, Hannah. There's nothing to see, though."

Seamus glanced at Dean's watch. "5:57."

"Ouch!" Rachel exclaimed suddenly.

"What?"

"That was my _foot_, Seamus."

Everyone gasped, as Rachel hadn't called Seamus by his first name since the beginning of September. "Are you okay?" Katelyn asked worriedly, placing a hand on Rachel's forehead.

Rachel swatted it away. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"I'm sorry for stepping on your foot," Seamus said, looking her straight in the eye.

"It's okay," she replied levelly.

Seamus took a deep breath. "I—"

"Aha! Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!"

Any thought of what had just been going on immediately flew out of everyone's heads as a sixth year pointed toward a large back shape in the sky.

"It's a dragon!" shrieked someone in the first row.

"Don't be stupid," someone shouted back. "It's a flying house!"

Neither of these guesses proved correct, as they soon found out. A large, baby blue horse-drawn carriage touched down a few yards away from the first years. It was titanic—drawn by twelve elephant-sized palominos, it could have easily fit ten Hagrids inside.

The door of the carriage, which bore two crossed wands with gold stars shooting out of them, swung open suddenly, and a boy in matching blue robes jumped out. He bent over and unlatched a golden staircase, and then the biggest, most regal-looking woman any of the Funny Farm had ever seen before stepped out. Her bright brown eyes shone in the moonlight, and her dark, clean skin was perfectly clear.

"My dear Madam Maxime," Professor Dumbledore said, kissing the woman's hand.

"Dumbly-dorr," she replied. "I 'ope I find you well?"

"In excellent form, I thank you."

"My students," Madame Maxime said, waving at the slightly frigid-looking teens that were climbing out of the carriage.

_"Cool_," said Seamus, peering at the horses over the third years' heads. "Whaddaya think, Dean? Dean? Whoa, man, you okay?"

Everyone turned to look at Dean in time to see his eyes roll back in his head and his knees buckle.

"Dean!" Hannah shrieked, throwing out her arms to catch him. But alas. It was not to be. Dean was much taller than poor, tiny Hannah, and though she could not keep him from toppling over, she successfully cushioned his fall.

"Oh, my gosh!" Tanya cried. "Are you okay?"

Hannah attempted to get Dean off of her, but to no avail. "Ouch. Yeah, I'm fine. But Dean's out cold, I think."

At this moment, Professor McGonagall spotted this rather questionable situation. "Mr. Thomas!" she hissed. If Beauxbatons hadn't been there, she would have lost her head completely. _"What are you doing on top of Miss Schreiter?_"

"He blacked out, Professor," Seamus said hurriedly. "Hannah tried to keep him from falling." To prove his point, he tried to pull Dean, who was still helplessly unconscious, off of Hannah.

"Here, let me help," Rachel said, hurrying to grab Dean's other arm. With their combined strength, they got Dean up onto his useless legs and supported him against their shoulders.

Professor McGonagall looked down her nose at them and sniffed disapprovingly. "Inform Mr. Thomas when he comes to that he is not to pass out in public again."

"Yes, Professor."

"The lake!" shouted a sixth-year. "Look at the lake!"

The water in the Black Lake was swirling around and around and out of the water rose—_a boat_. "The Black Pearl!" Katelyn shrieked.

"Durmstrang," Rachel corrected. "They're here!"

The gangplank of the ship splashed down against the shore, and dozens of heavily cloaked people came ashore.

"Dumbledore!" one of them called. "How are you, my dear fellow, how are you?"

"Blooming, thank you, Professor Karkaroff."

"Dear old Hogwarts," Karkaroff said with an insincere smile. "How good it is to be here, how good…Viktor, come along, into the warmth…you don't mind, Dumbledore? Viktor has a slight head cold."

"It's _Viktor Krum!_" Rachel exclaimed in a whisper.

"Excuse me," someone with a very thick accent said behind them. "Do any ov you haff a pen?"

They all turned around to stare at the newcomer. He was rather tall, with a mop of curly dark hair and steely grey eyes. He watched them expectantly.

"Er…um, yeah," Rachel said finally. She unzipped her ever-present messenger bag and pulled out one of her precious Muggle ballpoint pens.

"Tank you," the stranger replied. "Um…I am Nickolay Ivalyo Chevenkov, vrum Durmstrang. I leeve in Bulgaria."

"You're welcome," Rachel answered hesitantly. "I'm Rachel Hekman, from…Hogwarts. I live in the United States of America."

"I am the great-nephew ov de Bulgarian prime minister."

"I am the great-great-niece of the old _Dutch_ prime minister."

Nickolay grinned at her, flashing perfectly white, straight teeth. "Dank you."

"You're welcome," she said, sounding slightly breathless.

At this moment, Dean came to. "Eh?" he said, blinking at Seamus, who was trying to not drop his friend but also stand as tall as he could. "What's going on?"

"You passed out," Seamus replied.

"But who are _you_?"

"I'm your best mate, stupid!"

"Not _you_," Dean said crossly, and pointed at Nickolay. _"Him."_

"I am Nickolay Ivalyo Chevenkov," Nickolay said, holding out a hand.

Seamus let go of Dean so abruptly that Dean nearly toppled to the ground again. "Hey, Nickolay," Dean said, quickly regaining his balance and shaking Nickolay's hand. "I'm Dean Thomas."

"If all Hogwarts students will please file into the castle," McGonagall called, and Nickolay gave a start.

"Iv you vood excuse me, I must catch up vith my vellow learners," he said, and hurried toward the other Durmstrang students.

"He seems like a decent guy," Rachel admitted as they climbed the stairs into the Entrance Hall.

"We'll see," Tanya replied.


	11. Goodness Gracious, Great Goblet of Fire!

**Chapter 11: **

**Goodness Gracious, Great Goblets of Fire!**

As everyone waited in the Entrance Hall for the newcomers to file into the Great Hall, Rachel cleared her throat. "Er…Seamus?" she said quietly.

"Yeah?"

"Could I talk to you for a moment? In private?"

"Um…sure."

So they slipped out of the queue and went to stand a little ways away, where they began conversing in low voices.

"I _do_ hope they resolve their differences," Hannah said. "I was getting tired of their fighting."

Everyone remembered the talking-to Hannah had given them in September and nodded.

"So…what did you think of Beauxbatons?" Tanya asked everyone in general.

"Pretty cool," Katelyn said. "And I saw Kim!"

"You _did_?"

"Yup. She's going to sit with her classmates, though," Katelyn growled. "The Ravenclaws."

"Oh," Hannah said. "…Why them?"

"That's what I wanted to know," Katelyn answered.

"Oh! Lookie, lookie!" Tanya squealed.

Everyone turned to look where she was pointing. Over in the corner, they saw Rachel and Seamus reach out—and shake hands. And then, Rachel held out her arms and the two embraced. "Yay!" Tanya said happily. "They're friends again."

"And just in time, too," Dean pointed out. "It's our turn to go into the Great Hall."

Seamus and Rachel joined them at the doors to the Great Hall, both looking happier than anyone had seen them in months. The tension that had been between them like a taut rope had vanished.

"Feeling better?" Katelyn asked.

Rachel grinned, which took Katelyn by surprise. "Yep."

"Good. I don't think I could stand another meal with all the eggshells on the floor "

Katelyn's play on words was almost entirely lost on the other five, and she rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Come on, let's sit."

So they did. Preferring not to look at the rather beautiful Beauxbatons boys and girls at the Ravenclaw table, they faced the Slytherins, and therefore the Durmstrangs, instead. None of them were at all surprised to see Malfoy immediately begin to talk to the tall, surly-looking Viktor Krum. And it was downright normal when Shelby began making eyes at Nickolay.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and—most particularly—guests," Dumbledore said. "I have great pleasure in welcoming you all to Hogwarts. I hope and trust that your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable.

"The tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast. I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home."

The tables filled with all sorts of food—some normal and others downright weird. Most of the Funny Farm steered clear of these.

"So," Katelyn said to Rachel in a low voice. "What brought about yours and Seamus' recent reformations?"

Rachel looked blankly at her.

Katelyn sighed. "Why'd you apologize?"

"Oh! Well, I missed being his friend, and—believe it or not—I don't enjoy fighting with him. Oh, don't look at me like that—I'm serious!"

"It doesn't have anything to do with what he said yesterday about thinking about kissing you for the past year and a half, does it?"

Rachel stared at her in disbelief, then gave a sudden, delighted laugh. "Of _course_ not, Katelyn! Couldn't you see he was _joking_?"

Dumbledore stood up again at this time. "The moment has come. The Triwizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket—"

"Casket?" Hannah whispered.

"—just to clarify the procedure that we will be following this year. But first, let me introduce, for those who do no know them, Mr. Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, and Mr. Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports.

"Mr. Bagman and Mr. Crouch have worked tirelessly over the last few months on the arrangements for the Triwizard Tournament," Dumbledore continued, "and they will be joining myself, Professor Karkaroff, and Madam Maxime on the panel that will judge the champions' efforts.

"The casket, then, if you please, Mr. Filch."

The caretaker, all gussied up in a moth-bitten tailcoat, came forward with an antiquated wooden box. He set it on a little table and walked away.

"The instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined my Mr. Crouch and Mr. Bagman," Dumbledore continued, "and they have made the necessary arrangements for each challenge. There will be three tasks, spaced throughout the school year, and they will test the champions in many different ways…their magical prowess—their daring—their powers of deduction—and, of course, their ability to cope with danger.

"As you know, three champions compete in the tournament," Dumbledore went on, "one from each of the participating schools. They will be marked on how well they perform each of the Tournament tasks and the champion with the highest total after task three will win the Triwizard Cup. The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector: the Goblet of Fire."

Dumbledore tapped the casket three time with his wand and pulled out a large wooden cup that danced with blue flame. "Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it into the goblet. Aspiring champions have twenty-four hours in which to put their names forward. Tomorrow night, Halloween, the goblet will return the names of the three it has judged most worthy to represent their schools. The goblet will be placed in the Entrance Hall tonight, where it will be freely accessible to all those wishing to compete.

"To ensure that no underage student yields to temptation," Dumbledore went on, "I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire once it has been placed in the Entrance Hall. Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross the line.

"Finally, I wish to impress on any of you wishing to compete that this tournament is not to be entered into lightly. Once a champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obliged to see the tournament through to the end. The placing of your name in the goblet constitutes a binding, magical contract. There can be no change of heart once you have become a champion. Please be very sure, therefore, that you are wholeheartedly prepared to play before you drop your name into the goblet.

"Now, I think it is time for bed. Good night to you all."

"Long-winded, yet abrupt," Hannah mused as they filed out. _"So_ like Dumbledore."


	12. Insert Witty Chapter Title Here

**Chapter 12:**

**Insert Witty Breakfast Chapter Title Here**

The Funny Farm came down in time the next morning to see the Durmstrang students come into the castle from their ship. "I suppose they're going to submit their names to the goblet," Dean said as the students in their blood red robes all pulled out scraps of parchment and queued up.

"Really, Einstein?" Katelyn said.

"Atanastov, you first," said Karkaroff. A reedy-looking boy slouched up and dropped his paper into the goblet.

"Balgarski. Chervenkov. Christova. Dimitrof. Hlutev. Ignatieva. Kjucukov. Kounova. Krum. Levski. Poliakaff. Vulchanova."

The Durmstrang students went up one at a time and put their slips into the flaming cup as Katelyn watched longingly. "I wish _we_ could enter," she said with a sigh.

Seamus raised his eyebrow. "Why?"

"Let's see…" Katelyn replied thoughtfully. "Eternal glory, no. Riches and fame, no. Adrenaline rushes and insanely dangerous challenges, _heck, yes!_" She pumped her fist in the air and proceeded to moonwalk.

Rachel shook her head. "You're insane," she said as Harry, Ron, and Hermione joined the group.

"Who's insane?" Hermione asked.

"Katelyn," everyone answered in union.

"Ah."

"Anyone put their name in yet?" Ron asked.

"All the Durmstrang lot," answered a third-year who was passing by. "But I haven't seen anyone from Hogwarts yet."

"Bet some of them put it in last night after we'd all gone to bed," Harry mused. "I would've if it had been me. Wouldn't have wanted everyone watching. What if the goblet just gobbed you right back out again?"

"Agreed," Dean said.

People were filing slowly into the Entrance Hall when a triumphant laugh rang out from the staircase. Fred, George, and Lee were hurrying towards them, manic grins spread across their faces.

Seamus and Rachel both grinned and opened their mouths, but Katelyn slapped her hands over their faces just in time. "If you two even _think_ about teasing me about a 'fancy' you think I have, bad things are going to happen."

Seamus and Rachel shared twin mischievous looks.

"Done it," Fred whispered, coming over. "Just taken it."

"What?" Ron asked.

"The Aging Potion, dung brains," Fred answered casually.

"One drop each," George went on. "We only need to be a few months older."

"We're going to split the thousand Galleons between the three of us if one of us wins," Lee said with an excited grin.

Hermione looked doubtful. "I'm not sure this is going to work, you know," she said. "I'm sure Dumbledore will have thought of this…"

"Ready?" said Fred to George and Lee, ignoring Hermione completely. She looked slightly miffed. "C'mon, then—I'll go first—"

Fred stepped forward and halted right on the glowing line for a moment before stepping in—George shouted and jumped in after him—but then there was a hiss, a pop, and they were both hurled out of the circle and across the room. Two fine white beards now graced their cheeks.

"Fancy them _now_?" Seamus couldn't help but say, and Katelyn let out a snarl and leapt at both him and Rachel, who had had the gall to laugh at Seamus' joke. The two scattered, leaving Katelyn panting and contemplating just which of them she wanted to kill most. She apparently decided on Seamus, since Rachel _was_ a Beater, and so scurried after him.

"C'mon, you two," Hannah said to Dean and Tanya, and together they went in to breakfast.

"I wonder who's going to enter for Hogwarts," Tanya mused as they loaded their plates with sausages and other breakfast goodies.

"There's a rumor going around that Warrington got up early to put his name in," Dean replied, nodding to Harry, Ron, and Hermione as they joined the table. "Y'know, that big bloke from Slytherin who looks like a sloth."

Seamus and Rachel joined them just then, both flushed, out of breath, and having a great time running from Katelyn. "We can't have a Slytherin champion!" Harry exclaimed as Hermione waved frantically to Rachel and Seamus, trying to tell them without saying anything that Katelyn had just spotted them.

"Amen to that!" Hannah said, and Harry looked gratified.

"And all the Hufflepuffs are talking about Diggory," Seamus said, not noticing either Hermione's frenetic pantomiming nor Katelyn's flaring nostrils. "But I wouldn't have thought he'd have wanted to risk his good looks."

"Seamus!"

_"What?_"

"Look out!"

The two split again as Katelyn charged at them with a fierce roar. She watched them run pell-mell from the Great Hall, their robes flying and sending classmates scattering from their path, with a slightly crazed look. "Eurgh. I get _so_ sick of that sometimes."

"What?"

"What do you mean, _what_?" Katelyn growled. "_Them_, that's what. I—"

Hermione held up a hand. "Listen!"

"People are cheering," Tanya said intelligently. "I wonder what's going on…"

The answer to Tanya's question entered the Great Hall just then—Angelina Johnson, surrounded by a crowd of people, came in grinning. "Well," she said breathlessly, coming up to them, "I've done it! Just put my name in!"

Ron looked impressed. "You're kidding!"

"Who's kidding?" Seamus asked, as he and Rachel edged their way back to the table, now that Katelyn seemed to have calmed down a bit.

Hermione ignored them. "Well, I'm glad someone from Gryffindor's entering," she said. "I really hope you get it, Angelina!"

Seamus made the connection, and quickly masked his look of realization with one of dry annoyance. "Better you than Pretty-Boy Diggory," he said, earning himself angry looks (and one rude gesture) from several passing Hufflepuffs. Rachel thwapped him upside the head before he could retaliate in a negative manner.

Several quiet minutes passed, in which Harry, Ron, and Hermione, fearing for their sanity, made their escape from the Funny Farm's end of the table, and Seamus managed to chuck a breakfast roll at the back of Ernie Macmillian's head in retribution for the rude gesture he'd gotten earlier.

Just as Rachel was showing Seamus the _correct_ way to retaliate ("See, Seamus? If you make this neat figure eight while saying the spell, Ernie will glue himself to the table!"), a girl in a Beauxbatons uniform tapped Seamus on the shoulder.

"May I seet 'ere?" she asked, motioning to the spot between him and Rachel.

Rachel's eyes flashed dangerously, and she crossed her arms over her chest.

"Uh…y-yeah…wee?" he replied weakly.

The girl laughed. "_J'mapelle Kimberly, et toi_?"

"Um…what?"

Katelyn laughed. "She said 'My name is Kimberly, and you?'"

"Oh…uh…I'm Seamus." Said Irishman's ears turned ruby red.

Kimberly looked over Seamus' shoulder. _"Bonjour, Julien,"_ she said with a smile as a Beauxbatons boy approached and kissed her on the cheek.

"You didn't tell me you had a boyfriend!" Katelyn said loudly, gaining herself several odd looks from passersby.

"I guess I should drop the ruse," Kimberly said in an American accent, laughing. "I'm Kim, Katelyn's twin!"

Seamus groaned and dropped his head to Rachel's shoulder. Rachel didn't look too happy about being used as a handkerchief by the boy who'd just discovered that Katelyn's non-biological-twin was not available in the dating department, but she sighed and patted his back all the same.

"Twin?" Tanya shrieked. _"Twin?_ Oh, catch me, I feel faint!"

Hannah reached over the table and took Tanya's wrist just as she began to tilt backwards off the bench. "I'm trying to be more careful around fainting people," she explained when Tanya sagged forward into her oatmeal and had to be rescued by Terry Boot, a Ravenclaw who happened to be walking past. "I don't want to be crushed again!"

Dean looked ashamed.

"She's right, you know," Katelyn said in what she evidently thought was a soothing manner. "No offense, Dean, but you _are_ kind of on the tall side…"

"Ahem," Rachel cut in. _"I'm_ tall! Are you insinuating that something's wrong with tall people?"

"Yes," Katelyn replied.

Chaos ensued. Terry Boot said "A little help would be nice!" as it appeared Tanya really _had_ passed out, Kim flicked Seamus on the back of the head and cried for him to help Terry, Seamus attempted to wake Tanya with a spray of water from his wand, but a Slytherin walking past tripped over Terry's foot and slid into Dean, who tipped over a large flask of pumpkin juice with his elbow, successfully drenching Katelyn's front, who slammed into Seamus' back as she attempted to avoid the spill just as he said _"Aguamenti!_", bumping his wand arm, and sending the water from his wand gushing all over Rachel and Julien. Julien tripped sideways and landed flat on his back, barely avoiding being crushed by one of his own classmates, who was only able to stop the carnage by making sure no one else came near.

Silence reigned for a long moment as everyone struggled to make sense of what just happened. Finally, Rachel pushed her sopping wet hair out of her eyes and said, "'I'm _French_! Why do you sink I have zees out_rageous _ac_cent_, you silly king!' 'Well, what are you doing in _Eng_land?' 'Mind your own business!'" When no one seemed to get the joke, she cleared her throat. "Fine. But it'll make sense to you someday, mark my words."

Seamus began laughing.

And once he began, no one could help but join in, even Rachel, who looked significantly chilled, and Julien, who was prostrate on the floor and probably couldn't even understand English.

When everyone had recovered, Rachel siphoned the water from hers and Julien's robes with her wand, then set Katelyn and Kim to bringing Tanya back around after cleaning the pumpkin juice from Katelyn's white shirt. ("Make sure you tell her you _aren't_ really twins, you two! All we need is _another_ fainting goat around here.") She and Hannah were just finishing up fixing broken plates and cleaning tablecloths when Hannah tilted her head.

"Did it just get quieter in here?"

The female end of the Funny Farm looked up just as every boy in the Great Hall went ga-ga. A pretty girl from Beauxbatons had just flounced in, shaking her sheets of white-blonde hair as she took a seat. Every boy in her vicinity seemed to have gotten a shot of Novocain: their mouths hung open, their eyes glazed over, and Katelyn swore she saw drool on more than one chin.

"Eugh."

Every _girl_ in the Great Hall said this in unison (some louder than others). Kim looked amused. "Oh, yeah. Not surprised. That's Fleur Delacour. Part veela, I think—all the guys go for her. You kind of get used to it after a while. After all, there's only one of her and hundreds of them! She's got the Hogwarts males, too, looks like."

"Oh, no, no," Hannah said confidently. "Not _our_ boys. Not Dean and Seamus. They know better than to—DEAN! SEAMUS!"

Said males were just as googly-eyed as the rest, their tongues almost hanging out as they watched…_her. _ It wasn't until Hannah hauled off and hit Dean that they came to their senses. "What was _that_ for?" Dean exclaimed, rubbing his now sore arm.

Hannah opened her mouth, then evidently realized what she had done and turned red. "Er…nothing."

Rachel shook Seamus briskly, as he was still slightly dazed-looking. "Earth to Finnigan, earth to Finnigan," she said irritably. "Pay attention to _m_—us please."

"Mus?" he asked with a blank look on his face.

_"Us_," Rachel repeated, blushing. "Pay attention to _us_, not her."

"Who's 'her?'"

Rachel blinked, then gave a gratified grin.

"Nice cover-up," Dean muttered to Seamus as everyone left the Great Hall.

"I know," Seamus replied. "I've had practice."

----------------------------------

_(A/N: I'm back! Woohoo! My vacation was totally great! We went to Gettysburg, the National Civil War Museum, D.C., Sharpsburg, Colonial Williamsburg, Jamestowne, and Lexington, KY! SO cool[Except for the parts that weren't Civil War, of course. I took tons of pictures, so PM me if you want a link to the place where I'll have them posted…let's just say Gettysburg is gorgeous at sunset. But I'm glad to be back, too, especially since my carpal tunnel is gone! Thanks for your concern, everyone, by the way…I felt very loved. And look, it's paid off!_

_On a side note…I finished "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows" the other day. IT WAS SO GOOD! Well, maybe not the best one [seemed a little rushed, and the ending was a little contrived but I won't say anything more, in case I accidentally spill the plot! Let's just say it completely screwed up all the ideas I had for the sequels to _this_ story…but that's okay! New, fresh ones have already taken their places!_)


	13. An Unusually Serious Chapter

**Chapter 13:**

**An Unusually Serious Chapter**

That night's Halloween feast seemed to take thrice as long as normal. Everyone in the Great Hall eagerly awaited the drawing of the three champions from the Goblet of Fire, scarfing down the delicious food much quicker than usual, chatting excitedly about the future champions and what might be in store for them.

But not everyone was enjoying it.

Hannah was unusually taciturn, and only poked lifelessly at a baked potato while the rest of the Funny Farm chattered merrily around her. Katelyn was the first to notice the way she was gripping the table, her knuckles white and her face even whiter.

"Hannah?" Dean asked, worry straining his voice. "You okay?"

"Yeah," she said faintly. "Just…a bit lightheaded, that's all."

"Drink something," Rachel urged, and Seamus filled an empty goblet with water from his wand.

"No…no, thanks," Hannah whispered. "I—I think I'll maybe go back to…the dorm—lie down…tad dizzy…"

"Let me help you," Dean said immediately, and held her hand as she got up from her seat.

The others watched with concern as the two went slowly towards the door, their appetites suddenly gone. "I hope she's all right," Rachel said fretfully.

"Probably just overexcited, don't worry," Seamus said with unexpected gentleness.

"Um, guys," Tanya said urgently, pointing to Dean and Hannah. They all turned in time to see Hannah stumble and fall forward; Dean barely managed to catch her before she hit the flagstones, but she didn't make any move to regain her feet.

The Funny Farm all jumped to their feet in unison and hurried forward. "What happened?" Katelyn asked.

Dean looked stricken, struggling to keep Hannah upright. "I dunno—she just kind of fell," he said. "I think she's passed out!"

"Excuse me, excuse me!"

They turned to see McGonagall coming towards them, her brow set in a determined manner. "Hannah fainted, Professor," Seamus said, obviously thinking they were in trouble.

"I can see that, Mr. Finnigan, thank you," McGonagall replied. "Is she still out?"

"Yeah."

"Come along then," she said briskly. "Help me bring her to the Hospital Wing. Mr. Thomas, put your hands under her arms. Miss Hekman, hold her feet."

And so they half-carried, half-dragged Hannah out of the Great Hall, Katelyn, Tanya, and Seamus having the decency to walk on both sides so as to shield her from as many curious eyes as possible.

"Poppy," McGonagall called, shoving the Hospital Wing door open.

Madam Pomfrey bustled in, adjusting her headdress and apron. "Yes, yes, Minerva, I saw what happened. Put the girl here," she said to Rachel and Dean. The two hoisted Hannah up and onto a hospital cot.

"Can you tell me _exactly_ what happened before she lost consciousness?" Madam Pomfrey asked in a business-like tone, lifting Hannah's eyelids and peering at her pupils.

"Hannah was complaining of lightheadedness…said she was dizzy," Rachel replied, her voice sounding oddly choked. "Then…she just up and passed out."

"I see," Madam Pomfrey murmured, hitting Hannah's kneecaps with a triangular hammer.

"Is she all right?" Dean asked hesitantly.

Madam Pomfrey reached into the pocket of her apron and pulled out her wand and a block of what looked, oddly enough, like chocolate. "Your friend simply suffered a growth-induced seizure."

_"Simply?_" Rachel cried. "My brother had one and he nearly _died!_ And—wait. You mean Hannah's actually _growing_?"

"It was a very mild seizure, I assure you," Madam Pomfrey said bracingly. "It's not unusual for teenage girls to experience episodes like this—the sudden onslaught of hormones and chemicals is sometimes too much for their bodies to handle. I'm sure stress doesn't help, either."

"Can it happen to boys?" Tanya asked, thinking of Dean's little 'episode.'

Dean blushed.

"Were you locking your knees, young man?" Madam Pomfrey asked severely.

Dean blushed even more and muttered something under his breath.

"Locking one's knees inhibits the blood flow to the brain, young man," she said, half to Dean and half to Seamus. "It's no _wonder_ you passed out!"

"Is she all right?" Dean asked again, intent on diverting the attention back to the, you know, _unconscious girl on the cot_.

"I'll wake her up in an hour or so," Madam Pomfrey assured him. "Then I'll send her right back to her dorm—there's nothing better for her than a good night's sleep and minimal excitement for a day or so."

The Funny Farm glanced at each other. "So…it's all right if we go back to supper?" Tanya asked tentatively.

"Of course," Madam Pomfrey said. "I don't want you five passing out with _hunger,_ now."

So they went back downstairs, though not without their fair share of unease. The Great Hall was still full of feasting students, however, and the Funny Farm eased back into their seats.

"Hannah's going to miss the champions' naming," Dean sighed mournfully when the food and plates disappeared.

Rachel shrugged. "Oh, don't worry too much. There are only three, and of _course_ we'll tell her everything."

Just then, Dumbledore go to his feet, and the Great Hall fell silent. "Well, the goblet is almost ready to make its decision. I estimate that it requires one more minute. Now, when the champions' names are called, I would ask them please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber, where they will be receiving their first instructions."

He waved his wand, and all the candles in the Great Hall dimmed and went out, leaving the Goblet as the only source of light. And a very pretty, blue light it was, and one became so transfixed by the dancing flames that the sudden flaring of red came as quite an unpleasant shock. But a tongue of flame spat a piece of parchment into Dumbledore's hands, and the alarm was completely forgotten.

"The champion for Durmstrang will be Viktor Krum!"

The Quidditch fans in particular clapped supportively, but the goblet suddenly spat out a second piece of paper.

"The champion for Beauxbatons is Fleur Delacour!"

The veela-girl marched up the aisle, much to the disgust of every female present (and the utter disappointment of others).

The Goblet of Fire flared up one last time, and spat out the final slip of parchment.

"The Hogwarts champion," Dumbledore called, "is Cedric Diggory!"

Everyone cheered as the _incredibly_ good-looking Hufflepuff Seeker got up and followed the other champions. "What a stupid lump," Seamus said darkly, earning himself some very indignant looks from nearby females.

"Excellent," said Dumbledore, beaming proudly. "Well, we now have our three champions. I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute in a very real—"

But he stopped, for the goblet had flared red again, and it spat out yet another slip of parchment. Dumbledore seized it with shaking hands, and there was a long moment of weighty silence. Then Dumbledore took a deep breath and read, _"Harry Potter."_

Everyone turned to stare at him. "I didn't put my name in," he said, blinking in shock. "You know I didn't."

"Harry Potter," Dumbledore repeated. "Harry, up here, if you please."

Harry got up, stumbled, and began walking slowly toward the top table.

"What just _happened_?" Seamus whispered.

"I'm not sure," Rachel replied, and then Harry went through the door. As soon as it was closed, the Great Hall exploded in babbling. Everyone, it seemed, was just as perplexed as the Funny Farm. In the midst of the noise, though, the blue-white flames in the goblet flickered and went out completely. Dumbledore motioned for Filch, who closed the casket and wheeled it away. Then Dumbledore, McGonagall, Madam Maxime, Karkaroff, Snape, Ludo Bagman, Mr. Crouch, and Moody got up from the staff table and filed through the doorway.

"And that's that," Tanya said, sitting back.

"What?" Katelyn said indignantly. "A fourth year just got selected for the _Triwizard Tournament_—alongside a seventh year! Do you _realize_ how much danger Harry's in?"

"And I thought my life had no plot," Rachel scoffed. "I think this year might just be the most interesting one yet!"


	14. Tasko Numero Uno

**Chapter 14:**

Tasko Numero Uno 

"Poor, poor Harry," Tanya sighed, tossing aside the crinkled, much-read issue of the _Daily Prophet _and taking a sip of butterbeer. "I don't think he realized what he was getting himself into when he put his name in the goblet. I mean, did you read this article? It doesn't even _sound_ like him!"

"And now he's on the very _edge_ of the first task," said Hannah, who was now back healthy and hale.

Seamus nodded. "I'm bloody tired of this whole Triwizard Tournament business already."

"Why's that?" Katelyn asked. _"I_ think it's cool!"

"It would help if Ron and Harry started speaking to each other again," Dean answered. "Men aren't supposed to talk about our feelings and all, but you can imagine how uncomfortable it is having to share a dorm with them."

"Ron's a good mate, don't get me wrong," Seamus put in, "but he _does_ get tiresome after a while, especially when he's in a foul mood."

"Which is nearly always," Dean added.

"Don't look now, then," said Rachel, as the door to the Three Broomsticks opened with a blast of cold air, "but here he comes."

Indeed, Ron Weasley walked towards them, his brows drawn together over his eyes in a very unnerving manner. Dean and Seamus resignedly made room for him, but he kept walking and chose a seat with Fred, George, and Lee Jordan.

"That was close," Dean sighed.

"Oh, and here come the Durmstrang lot," Rachel announced, and a good number of red-robed Bulgarians swept past them on their way to the back.

"They prefer the dark," Hannah sniggered.

Rachel shushed her, but had difficulty masking her own grin.

"Excuse me," said someone in a thick accent just then, and everyone started. It was Nickolay, whom they'd hardly seen since he and his classmates had arrived in October.

"Hello, Nickolay," Rachel said cordially. "How've you been?"

"Very vell, tank you," he replied, flashing white, enviably even, teeth. "I haff your pen, Vrachell." He pulled her precious Muggle PaperMate out of his pocket and handed it to her. "I had to borrow eet because my vriend Anton had a book he vanted me to read and vrite a summary ov. Very odd, I tought, but I do it vor my vriend."

"What book was it?" she asked conversationally, and Seamus and Dean reluctantly made room for Nickolay, groaning silently as they did so.

"It is called, in Eenglish, _'Ze Crystal Bower_.' Haff you read it?"

"I'm assuming not, if it's in Bulgarian."

_"Duh,_" Seamus muttered under his breath, and Katelyn gave him a swift kick under the table.

"What's it about?" Rachel went on.

"Eet is about a snow queen who, every year, takes young maidens vrom ze nearby town and locks them up in a vroom of crystal. A young shepherd boy tries to set them vree."

"Does he succeed?" Rachel asked, rather breathlessly.

"Zat I cannot tell you," Nickolay replied with a grin.

"Need I remind you that I don't—speak—Bulgarian?"

"Ah, ha, ha, how funny I vorget," Nickolay said, flashing another winning smile. "The shepherd boy does succeed but, alas, perishes tragically in ze attempt."

Rachel scowled and flipped her frizzy hair back over her shoulder in an irritated way. "What an awful ending!"

"Eet is a hallmark of Bulgarian literature. Ve often—"

Nickolay broke off as one of his classmates approached. "Vat is it, Poliakoff?"

They began speaking in rapid Bulgarian, and soon Nickolay excused himself from the Funny Farm and went to sit with the other Durmstrang students.

"Thank goodness he's gone," Rachel breathed as soon as he was out of earshot, slumping back in her seat.

Seamus looked over at her, his jaw hanging slightly open. "What do you mean? I thought you…fancied him." He said 'fancied' with obvious difficulty.

Rachel blushed and hid her face in her arms. "I should bloody well think not, Seamus!" she exclaimed nevertheless, her voice slightly muffled by the mounds of brown hair and sweater covering her mouth.

"Did Sushi just say…bloody?" Katelyn asked incredulously.

"Yes," was Rachel's annoyed reply.

"Shall we leave it at that, then?" Seamus said.

"Oh, let's."

---------------------------------------

The day of the first task dawned bright and clear, and after lunch, the entire school trooped down to the arena where the event would take place. Seamus, Dean, Ron, and Hermione clustered together in one of the rows, with four extra seats for Katelyn, Tanya, Hannah, and Rachel. The stands quickly filled; but the girls still did not appear.

"Where _are_ they?" Dean asked worriedly, and Seamus stood up to scan the crowds.

"Have no fear," someone called, and Seamus and Dean turned to see Rachel picking her way towards them. She had a long Muggle parka on over what looked to be her old cheerleading uniform—except now it was a bright hodgepodge of yellow, blue, green, and scarlet, and a large, vividly black 'H' was emblazoned on her blouse.

"Bloody hell," Seamus said slowly.

"I know, I know," she sighed. "Katelyn designed it. But Beauxbatons and Durmstrang have cheerleaders, and how better to raise school spirit than having Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs, and Gryffindors cheering on the same platform?—Slytherin didn't want anything to do with it."

"You really don't look the part of cheerleader, you know," Dean said.

Rachel nodded. "I never really took to it, anyway," she said, slapping Seamus' hand away as he innocently attempted to tug her parka aside in order to see the rest of the patchwork uniform. "You know me—more a bookworm than anything…but to the point. Here, Seamus." She handed him a Muggle camera. "Do me a favor, will you, and take pictures?"

"Of you?"

"No, of the champions."

"Sure."

"Thanks," she said with a grin. "Press this button to take the picture, and wind the wheel before the next. See you later, then. Hermione, I can count on _you_ if no one follows the cheers, right?"

"Of course." Hermione gave her a thumbs-up, and Rachel went back down to where fourteen other multi-colored cheerleaders were animatedly discussing a Muggle whiteboard.

"Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention?" Ludo Bagman's magically magnified voice rumbled through the arena. "Welcome to the very first task of the Triwizard Tournament! Our four champions are currently being instructed on what this task will require of them, so may I direct your attention to the three platforms in front of the north stands. Here we have the lovely Beauxbatons cheerleaders! The lovely Durmstrang cheerleaders! And the lovely Hogwarts cheerleaders!"

Seamus stuck his fingers in his mouth and whistled shrilly.

"These girls—oh, pardon me, I see they have a few male assistants—will be leading their respective schools in cheering on the champions! Now, remember the rules, girls: please refrain from cheering when your champion is not in the arena.

"Well, I have just been informed that the four champions are ready. And so please welcome…the first task!"

There was a simultaneous gasp from the crowds as a giant, green, snakelike _dragon_ entered the enclosure. Hermione screamed, and several Hufflepuffs fainted from sheer terror.

"If you will notice," Ludo said above the roaring of the dragon and shouts from the crowds, "the dragon is sitting atop a nest, in which is housed four eggs: three natural and _one golden egg_. The champions' goal is to recover the golden egg without destroying either the natural eggs or themselves in the process.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Hogwarts champion…_Cedric Diggory!"_

The Hogwarts side of the stands burst into wild cheers as Cedric staggered out, looking very white and frightened. The dragon roared, and Cedric gave a very obvious start of fear before plunging his hand into his sleeve and pulling out his wand. He took a shuddering breath, then closed his eyes and began muttering. A rock nearby quivered, lurched, and suddenly leapt up and began yapping at the dragon! The beast was momentarily confused; its head weaved between Cedric and the Transformed rock.

"He might just have a chance!" Ludo said gleefully.

Cedric managed to get the egg…Fleur came out…she got the egg, too…then it was Krum's turn…he got the egg…and then Harry came out.

He stood at the entrance to the enclosure, pointed his wand at the sky, and bellowed, "ACCIO FIREBOLT!"

There was absolute silence for a long time, while dragon in the enclosure paced and occasionally blew smoke. Harry looked small and green.

And then—

_"Good lord! Is that a broom?"_


	15. Danse Macabre! Or, Dance Of Death

**Chapter 15:**

**Danse Macabre. Or, Dance of Death**

"Why are we missing study period for _this_?" Tanya asked. The female division of the Funny Farm was standing in a cluster of girls from the same and other halls. The boys were watching them apprehensively from the other side of the room.

"What is 'this,' anyhow?" Rachel asked. "It feels really weird not standing with Seamus and Dean…"

"No kidding," Hannah said with a nod. "McGonagall just came in and was like 'Professor Flitwick, I need everyone in your class fourth year and up.' So we got up and followed her here." She indicated the large, unused classroom that everyone was congregated in.

"She did the same for Vector's study period," Katelyn put in.

Just then, McGonagall came into the room and clapped her hands. "Attention, please," she called, and everyone fell silent. "Now, as you all know by now the Yule Ball is quickly approaching. There will be _dancing_ involved, and this is the perfect opportunity to prove to our foreign guests just how _civil_ we are."

She let her words sink in for a moment. "Therefore, since I _won't_ be having you all gallivanting about like a bunch of baboons, you are all here to learn to _waltz._"

"What the bloody hell do you mean?" Seamus asked loudly.

McGonagall sent him a murderous look. "Today is the eleventh of December. That means the Yule Ball is in two weeks, students. I have two hours to teach you to learn to at least _fake_ a civilized dance. Mr. Filch, if you please…"

The caretaker wheeled in a large, primeval victrola.

"I need a volunteer, please," McGonagall said imperiously, glaring at all the students. "No one? All right, Mr. Weasley. If you would come here, please."

Ron extracted himself with some reluctance from the crowd of boys and shuffled towards McGonagall.

"Take my hand…and put your other one here…"

_"Where?_" Ron squeaked.

"On my waist, Mr. Weasley."

Ron put his hand gingerly on McGonagall's waist, and Mr. Filch started the scratchy waltz music.

"Watch our feet carefully, students," McGonagall called. "As you see, I am letting Mr. Weasley lead. And one-two-three, one-two-three. Very good, Mr. Weasley. You may stop now."

Ron didn't need to be told twice. He lurched away and scurried back into the crowd, sending murderous looks towards Fred and George, who were collapsed on each other and sobbing with laughter.

"All right, students," McGonagall said, and Filch cut the music. "I want you each to pair up, and we will begin learning."

Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil leapt forward and immediately selected two of he cutest sixth years. When no one else seemed overly enthusiastic to choose partners, McGonagall went among everyone and did it for them. "Miss Rogers, you will dance with Mr. Boot. Miss Schreiter, you will _not_ dance with Mr. Thomas; pair up with Mr. Finnigan instead. Miss Hekman, dance with Mr. Longbottom. Miss Barcanic, go pair up with Mr. Macmillan." And so on.

When everyone was satisfactorily paired up, McGonagall motioned to Filch, and the scratchy waltz music started up again. "And one-two-three, one-two-three, one-two-three, watch your feet, one-two-three, one-two-three—no, Miss Hekman, let Mr. Longbottom lead—one-two-three, one-two-three—slower, Mr. MacDougal, this is _not_ a polka—one-two-three, one-two-three, one-two-three, one-two-three, and _stop._"

The music ground to a scratchy halt, and McGonagall twirled her hand in the air. "Trade partners with the couple nearest you, please."

Katelyn found herself being handed off rather suddenly, and she hoped that Ernie's toes would feel better soon. But these thoughts quickly dissipated as she found herself in none other than Wes' arms. "Er…h-hi, Wes," she stammered.

He flashed a knee-weakening smile. "Hey."

Katelyn's tongue wasn't working right, so she could do nothing but gaze up into his beautiful, sea-like, aquamarine blue, like that of sunlight dancing over the water, and his perfectly tan face, white teeth…

"Katelyn?"

"Yeah…?" she breathed.

"I asked if you were having fun."

"Oh," she said, flustered. "Yeah." _At least, now I am._ "You?"

"Def'," he replied, squeezing her hand so lightly Katelyn wondered if she had just imagined it. She felt her knees begin to tremble dangerously.

The music went on, and then McGonagall clapped her hands again and asked them to trade partners once more. "This is weird, huh?" Seamus said as Rachel put her hand on his shoulder.

"Well, you're a sight better than Neville and Blaise Zabini," Rachel replied pleasantly as the music started up again. "No offense to Neville, of course."

Seamus sniggered as Blaise, Hannah Abbot in his arms, gave them a nasty look as they passed. "So…whaddaya think of this whole Yule Ball thing?"

"It's…interesting," she said thoughtfully. "Oops, sorry." She had stepped on his toes.

"S'okay. Are you going to go?"

"We're allowed to, aren't we? I suppose I might as well. Sounds like fun, I guess. You?"

"Probably, yeah."

"Anyone in particular that you want to ask?" she said with a grin.

"Yeah," he replied vaguely. "Oh, my bad." It was Rachel's turn to be stepped on. "…You?"

"Nope. I figure I'll go, and if a guy wants to ask me—" she snorted—"then sure."

Seamus was about to say something else, but the waltz music ground to a halt and McGonagall clapped her hands.

"Two weeks, students, until the Yule Ball. I suggest you practice in your free time. And I shall be severely disappointed if you misrepresent Hogwarts in _any_ way. You're dismissed."

---------------------------------

It was the next morning at breakfast when the first exciting event of the day occurred. Dean, who'd been looking rather pale since they'd gotten up, suddenly dropped his knife on his plate with a loud clatter.

"Careful," Seamus said with a sidelong glance. "Don't think Dumbledore'd be too chuffed if you broke one of his dishes."

Dean ignored him. "Hannah—can I ask you something?"

"Yeah," she replied, and looked over at him. "What is it?"

He cleared his throat, once—twice—three times. "Er…uh…_ahem_…"

"Yes?" Seamus said with a grin.

Dean gave him a dark look. "Hannah…uh…_ahem_…doyouwanttogototheYuleBallwithmeplease?"

Her face turned a bright fuchsia color, and she stammered out, "Y-yes, I would…l-_love_ to, Dean?"

He broke into a relieved grin. "Great! Er...okay. Good!"

Suddenly, she got up from her seat and ran from the Great Hall, and the happy grins that had been on the faces of everyone within earshot disappeared. Dean watched her go with a mixture of puzzlement and horror on his face.

"Go after her," Seamus said wisely, clapping Dean on the shoulder.

"Right," he replied firmly, and got up from his seat. He was just about to follow Hannah when he stopped and gave Seamus an appalled look.

"What?" Seamus asked indignantly.

"I cannot _believe_ that I am taking advice from the greatest romantic _failure_ in the history of Hogwarts!" Dean replied.

Seamus gave him a none-too-gentle shove towards the doors. "Shut it, Dean."

Dean shrugged and made his way out of the Great Hall.

"What was _that_ about?" Katelyn asked curiously as Seamus sat back down.

"I think Seamus isn't telling us something," Rachel teased.

"You have no idea," Seamus groaned, and dropped his head onto his arms.

------------------------------------

The next exciting event of the day occurred in study period. Professor Vector had his weekly Arithmancy Club meeting, so the Funny Farm was having one of their rare combined Great Hall study periods. And since it was Professor Flitwick against sixty students, everyone did anything they wanted, short of homicide and grand theft auto.

"Come _on_, Seamus," Tanya was wheedling. "Who do you want to ask?"

Seamus had his fingers stuffed in his ears and was humming loudly, much to the delight of Rachel, Hannah, Dean, and Katelyn, who were in no way, shape, or form doing homework. It was the last day before the Christmas holiday began, and the Yule Ball was only a week away—not to mention Haley and Oliver's wedding, which was to be on the twenty-third (the girls were especially excited, as Haley had asked them to be bridesmaids).

Tanya was about to resort to tickling the answer out of her friend when golden-haired, white-teethed, gorgeous-nessed Hogwarts Hottie slid into a seat with them. "'Sup?" Wes asked nonchalantly.

Katelyn's face turned an interesting shade of puce, and she stammered out something that might've been a 'hi, Wes.'

"Notice you're taking _her_ out," he said to Dean, motioning to Hannah.

"He's not taking me out," Hannah said indignantly. "We're just…going to the Yule Ball together, that's all." But she and Dean both turned pink and carefully avoided looking at each other.

"Well, whatever," he said, then turned to Katelyn. "So—you wanna go with me to the Yule Ball?"

Rachel thought Katelyn was going to explode with excitement. Finally, she spluttered, "Yes. Yes, I will, Wes!

"Cool." Wes grinned, and he kissed Katelyn on the cheek and left.

The entire Funny Farm was absolutely silent for a full minute. _"Wow_," Katelyn said finally.

"Wow's right," Tanya replied. "You're going out with the cutest Gryffindor _ever_!"

_"Hey!"_ Seamus and Dean said in unison.

"No comment," said Katelyn.

---------------------------------------

Songs I listened to while typing this chapter: _**"We Will All Go Together When We Go**__" by Tom Lehrer. __**"Simple Gifts**__" arranged by Aaron Copland. "__**Ashokan Farewell**__," by Jay Ungar and Molly Mason. "__**Marching Through Georgia**__," from Songs of the Civil War. "__**Morning**__," from Grieg's Peer Gynt. "__**The Circle of Life**__" from the Lion King. "__**Battle Cry of Freedom**__" from Ken Burns' The Civil War. "__**Vacant Chair**__," from Songs of the Civil War. "__**Poisoning Pigeons in the Park"**__ by Tom Lehrer. "__**Somebody's Darling**__" from Songs of the Civil War. "__**Playing With the Big Boys Now**__" from the Prince of Egypt. "__**Pachelbel's Canon in D Major**__" by someone I don't know. "__**The Secesh (Shiloh**__)" from Songs of the Civil War—my daddy sang it to me for a lullaby! _


	16. Events, Events, Events!

**Chapter Sixteen:**

**Events, Events, Events!**

The third and fourth exciting events of the day occurred just as the Funny Farm was heading into the Great Hall. Terry Boot, a blonde-haired Ravenclaw in their year, broke out of a knot of students and hurried towards them.

"Tanya," he called breathlessly. "Hey—wait up!"

"What is it?" she asked, turning to meet him.

"I was wondering if you'd like to go to the Yule Ball. With me, of course."

"She would _love_ to, Terry," Hannah answered without a moment's hesitation.

He looked at Tanya for reassurance, and she nodded, her thin face turning pink with embarrassment. "Sure I will, Terry."

"Cool. See you then?"

"Yeah, see you then."

Terry grinned and ran off to join his friends again.

"Four down, only two to go," Katelyn said, grinning mischievously at Rachel and Seamus.

Rachel gave a slightly cynical laugh. "Yeah, right."

Seamus looked suddenly thoughtful. "That reminds me. Rachel, I've been wondering if—"

"Vrachell!"

She gave a resigned sigh and turned around as Nickolay hurried up to them. "Hey, Nickolay."

"I vas vondering iv you vould go to the Yule Ball vith me."

Seamus smacked himself on the forehead.

"Yeah, okay," Rachel replied. "I'll go."

Nickolay grinned, said 'tank you' and walked off.

"I thought you hated him!" Tanya exclaimed.

Rachel colored. "I thought I might as well. It's not like I'm going to get a whole lot of other offers, and he's not exactly a hideous troll, after all."

Seamus gave a snort of derision.

"Oh?" Hannah replied, lifting an eyebrow.

"By the way, Seamus," Rachel said, "what was it that you were going to ask?"

"Well, since you'd said that you weren't planning on going to the Yule Ball with anyone, I was going to ask if you wanted to go with me. As friends."

"And _now_ you tell me?" Rachel exclaimed, then gave in to childish impulses and stamped her foot. "I would much rather go with you as friends than with Bulgaria Boy over there!"

"I suppose that's a relief," Seamus said with a shrug.

"Well, who are you going to go with now?" Rachel said, her face flushed with disappointment.

"I suppose I'll go by myself—" he began.

"No, no, no," Rachel said vaguely, scanning the crowds of students. "How about…Lavender?"

"No, I'll go alone," he said hastily.

But it was too late. Rachel stood on her tiptoes and shouted, "Hey, Lavender!"

Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil looked up. "What is it?"

"D'you want to go to the Yule Ball with Seamus?"

"Sure!"

Lavender and Parvati waved, then ran off, giggling like mad.

Seamus groaned. "Why _her_? _Why_?"

"She's nice," Rachel said, after a moment's hesitation. "A little blonde, but nice."

"A _little_?" Katelyn echoed.

Rachel laughed. "Okay—so I exaggerated."

"Rachel wins the Understatement Of The Year award," Hannah said, deadpan. "Whoop-dee-do."

"Here's an understatement to match Rachel's," Seamus said, with a sly grin. "Hannah is fond of Dean. _Ow!_"

Hannah looked vaguely like a snorting bull as she rubbed her fist and glared at Seamus, who was massaging his arm and wincing. "Shut it, Finnigan."

"Hey," Rachel said with mock affront. "I thought _I_ was the only one allowed to say that! Okay, okay, sorry, Hannah, I meant no offense…"

And everyone backed away.

-----------------------------------

Before they knew it, it was December 23, the day that their very own Snoodles was getting married. The Funny Farm and a few seventh years that Oliver had invited congregated together in the Entrance Hall just an hour after breakfast. The four Funny Farm girls stood off to the side a little bit, looking slightly uncomfortable in their dark red silk bridesmaids' dresses and elegant hairstyles, wrapped in matching shawls and their black wizards' cloaks.

"Do you know when they're supposed to pick us up?" Tanya asked finally.

"Between eight and nine," Hannah answered.

Seamus and Dean looked at their watches. "8:05," Dean said.

Rachel tapped her foot impatiently, wincing a little. "Oh, I wish they would hurry. My shoes are killing me."

"Maybe if you'd wear high heels more often, they wouldn't hurt so much," Katelyn replied.

Rachel hiked her skirts up to reveal a pair of strappy black sandals with murderous-looking 3-inch heels. "Katelyn, I'm 6-foot in these. That means I'm tall. Which, in turn, means I can't wear heels without looking like an Amazon."

Seamus had to tilt his head a little to look at her. "How do you plan to dance if you're taller than everyone else?"

She twitched her cloak aside so everyone could see the canvas bag she was holding. "I'll cheat," she said, and pulled a pair of Muggle flip-flops from the depths and displayed them. "I also brought my wand in case Oliver's relatives get drunk and start hexing Haley's…"

_"Right_…" Seamus said.

Tanya looked at her own shoes. "I should wear these more often. Now I'm 5-foot-4!"

Katelyn and Hannah nodded in agreement.

Just then, a group of students came into the Entrance Hall, and Harry Potter broke out from the clot and made his way towards them. "Hey—Hannah!"

"What?" she asked.

As he got nearer, the Funny Farm cold see that he looked flustered and worried. "Hannah, will you go to the Yule Ball with me?"

"This is awfully last minute, Harry," she replied. "But sorry, I'm already going with Dean."

Harry turned to Tanya.

"Sorry, Harry, I'm going with Terry Boot."

Harry then turned to Katelyn.

"Sorry. I'm going with Wes."

Harry turned to Rachel.

"You're really desperate, aren't you?" Rachel said with a wry smile.

"Sorry," he replied. "I forgot—you're going with Seamus."

"No, I'm not," she said quickly. "I'm going with Nickolay—a Durmstrang student."

"You know what," Hannah said, coming to everyone's rescue, "Harry, Parvati Patil's free. Why don't you ask her?"

Harry looked immensely relieved. "Okay. Thanks!" and he ran off.

"It looks like I'm just in time," said a new voice. The Funny Farm turned to see Mrs. Schreiter coming towards them, her forest green Mother-of-the-Bride dress swallowed up by a large Muggle coat. "Hi, Mom!" Hannah cried, and ran to fling her arms around her mother.

Mrs. Schreiter smiled and looked around the Entrance Hall. "Hasn't changed much since I was here for Haley's graduation last year," she commented.

"May we go now?" asked one of the seventh years, a tall, haughty-looking boy.

Mrs. Schreiter blinked. "Er…yeah, the Hogwarts Express will take us back to London, and we'll take a cab to the cathedral from King's Cross."

"Why can't we walk?" Dean asked.

Mrs. Schreiter pointed out the door, and everyone saw the swirling white snow. "Ah," Dean replied.

So they walked out into the frigid air, the girls holding their skirts nearly up to their knees so the hems wouldn't get wet. They all piled into a horseless carriage to be driven to Hogsmeade Station, then clambered into the Hogwarts Express and spent the next hour and a half running up and down the corridors unsupervised. "It's so we don't jump up and scream _'I OBJECT'_ halfway through the ceremony," Seamus explained when Mrs. Schreiter asked them to calm down.

But when they got into the cab, everyone fell silent as the beginnings of nervousness started to stir in their stomachs. _This is it._


	17. I Hear Wedding Bells!

**Chapter Seventeen:**

**I Hear Wedding Bells!**

When the Funny Farm arrived at Our Blessed Lady cathedral, they found everyone scurrying about in a panic. "Thank goodness you're here," cried one dark-haired, frazzled-looking young woman who was dressed in the same way that the girls were.

"What's wrong, Angela?" Mrs. Schreiter asked.

"Haley's locked herself in her dressing room and is beginning to say that she won't marry Oliver, _that's_ what's wrong!"

"And how did _he_ react?"

"No one's told him yet," Angela whispered.

"This is silly," Hannah said loudly. "Haley loves Oliver, I'm sure of it! Why would she _not_ want to marry him?"

"That's what I thought," Angela replied.

"We can't just stand here, then," Hannah continued. "Come on, Tanya, Katelyn, Rachel. We've got to talk some sense into Snoodles."

"What about us?" Dean asked.

"Just stand there and look nice," Hannah replied, and then she and the other girls followed Mrs. Schreiter into the depths of the cathedral.

After a few minutes of scurrying about in the dimly lit corridors, Mrs. Schreiter stopped in front of what looked like a library door. "Haley, darling," she called, rapping gently at the door.

"What?" came Haley's teary voice.

"Hannah and Tanya and Rachel and Katelyn are here to say he—"

_"Chicas!_"

Haley flung open the door with a joyous cry, her earlier breakdown apparently all but forgotten. _"Mis chicas!"_

"Hey, Haley!" they exclaimed, catching their eldest member in a hug. "What's up?"

"I'll let you five catch up," Mrs. Schreiter said with a grin.

Healey let the girls into the room and latched the door. Indeed, it was a converted library, but Haley's tiara and veil lay draped over an armchair, and a pair of white heels poked from underneath a discarded t-shirt. Haley was already in her gorgeous white dress, but a fuzzy blue blanket was tucked securely around her shoulders.

"Why don't you want to marry Oliver?" Tanya asked right off the bat, blissfully ignorant to her obvious lack of timing. Rachel, Katelyn, and Hannah all shared a sigh as Haley's eyes filled with melodramatic tears.

"I _do_," she began, but snatched up a crumpled Kleenex and blew her nose loudly. "I just don't think I'm _ready_."

"Haley, you're going to be nineteen in just a few months. You're perfectly within your boundaries, each physically, emotionally, mentally, financially, and legally, to marry this man!"

"I _know_," Haley sighed.

"Do you love him?"

"Of _course_ I do!" Haley exclaimed. "What an awful thing to ask!"

"Then _marry_ him, for land's sakes," Rachel said loudly. "I'm so _sick_ of people actually _knowing_ how they feel about someone and then hemming and hawing about it when they could be _acting_ on it! Law, it makes me sick."

Everyone blinked at this rather vehement nineteenth-century outburst of Rachel's. "What _is_ the matter with you?" Katelyn asked.

"Let's not talk about this on Haley's wedding day," Rachel replied. "Look, Haley—you have to walk up that aisle in twenty minutes. Are you going to do this or not?"

"Of _course_ I am!" Haley said indignantly. "Hannah, _robe me._"

Together, Hannah and Tanya arranged the tiara on Haley's elegantly-styled hair, while Katelyn worked on getting Haley's feet into the sandals and Rachel touched up the makeup that had been smeared by Haley's tears ("That's about the extent of my makeup abilities!" Rachel said with a laugh.).

Ten minutes later, the girls were nearly having to hold Haley back from running out the door and into her Ollie-bear's arms. "This is a good sign," Hannah said to Katelyn as they left the room, after threatening Haley with physical harm if she were to leave before it was time.

"Definitely," Katelyn agreed.

"Oh, look!" Rachel exclaimed, pointing. "Mrs. Finnigan's here!"

The girls hurried towards Dean and Seamus and his mother, who was dressed in a very becoming lavender suit-dress. "Hello, Mrs. Finnigan," Rachel said.

Mrs. Finnigan's face broke into a smile. "Why, hello, loves! How _are_ you?"

"Good! I'm glad to see you've survived the aftershock of chaperoning us," Katelyn replied.

Mrs. Finnigan awkwardly embraced them all, her very swollen stomach making it difficult to do otherwise. "So—I've heard nearly everything about the Yule Ball. I'm so excited for you all." She pulled Rachel and Seamus into a warm hug. "Especially you two!"

"Er…why, Mam?" Seamus asked uncomfortably.

"Aren't you going with—oh, dear. You _aren't_, are you?" Mrs. Finnigan looked rather embarrassed. "Seamus, you told me you asked her!"

"But you didn't let me _finish_!" he replied crossly. "I was _going_ to say that I was about to ask Rachel to go as friends when this _other_ student asked her first!"

"I'd rather have gone with Seamus than with Nickolay, believe me, Mrs. Finnigan," Rachel said, repeating her sentiment from a few days earlier.

"I think it would've been easier for _both_ of us if we'd just _gone_ together," he said dryly.

"No kidding."

Just then, the doors to the chapel opened, and the guests began to file in. "Sorry, guys," Hannah said to the Finnigans and Dean, "but we need to get our flowers and go stand at the front."

"Hurry along, then," Mrs. Finnigan replied, and shooed them off.

They took their small bouquets from Mrs. Schreiter, smoothed their dresses, and waited for the groomsmen to show up. "Is the flower girl going before us or after us?" Tanya asked no one in particular.

"Before, apparently," said Hannah, for the tuxedoed groomsmen brought with them a little blonde-haired girl dressed in a bouncy green dress and holding a basket of red and white flower petals.

"I'm Becca Wood," she announced, bounding over to them. "I'm seven," she added, holding up six fingers.

"Are you Oliver's sister?" Tanya asked.

Becca gave her a disdainful look. "No. I'm Oliver's…n-n…nice."

"You're Oliver's niece?" Rachel cooed, kneeling down. "Is your daddy Oliver's brother?"

Becca nodded, pleased to have an attentive audience. "He said I'm gonna have a new auntie."

Just then, the organ inside the stained-glass chapel began to play, and a man with a thick Scottish accent shooed her inside. Becca immediately went skipping down the aisle, scattering petals and humming loudly as she went.

When she was done, the same man took Angela's arm and started down the aisle. The remaining groomsmen each took an arm of one of the female Funny Farm members and walked them down the aisle. It was quite awkward for the girls, as they'd never seen these men before in their lives—though Katelyn was rather sure she'd seen her escort at Haley and Oliver's graduation.

But however uncomfortable they felt, it was over in a moment, and Oliver, who'd been standing alone on the dais, looked relieved to have some backup.

And then it was time for Haley's entrance. The organist began playing Mendelssohn's Bridal Chorus, and everyone turned expectantly towards the door.

But Haley didn't enter. Instead, with a rush of annoyance, the girls heard muffled pounding and shouting. As if they shared one brain, Hannah, Katelyn, Rachel, and Tanya handed their bouquets to Angela, set their jaws, and marched back down the aisle. When they reached the double doors, they threw them wide open, marched through, and began tugging at Haley's white-gloved hands while poor Mr. Schreiter pushed at her from behind.

"No! No! No!" Haley was shrieking, her eyes squeezed shut.

"Don't be stupid, Haley," Hannah hissed. _"Pull!_"

The girls heaved backwards and, using their leverage, began to lead Haley tripping and lurching down the aisle. The organist slowed the march to a plodding pace; poor Oliver's face was a mottled red color.

But then Haley's eyes popped open, and hers and Oliver's eyes met. Needless to say, she broke from the girls' grips and practically ran the rest of the way to the altar.

The Reverend blinked as the bridesmaids took their places again, but nevertheless opened his Bible and began. "We gather in the presence of God to give thanks for the gift of marriage, to witness the joining together of Oliver Wood and Haley Schreiter, to surround them with our prayers, and to ask God's blessing upon them, so that they may be strengthened for their life together and nurtured in their love for God.

"God created us male and female, and gave us marriage so that husband and wife may help and comfort each other, living faithfully together in plenty and in want, in joy and in sorrow, in sickness and in health, in life and in death, for better or for worse, throughout all their days.

"God gave us marriage for the well-being of human society, for the ordering of family life, and for the birth and nurture of children.

"God gave us marriage as a holy mystery in which a man and a woman are joined together, and become one, just as Christ is with the church.

"In marriage, husband and wife are called to a new way of life, created, ordered, and blessed by God. This way of life must not be entered into carelessly, or from selfish motives, but responsibly, and prayerfully.

"We rejoice that marriage is given by God, blessed by our Lord Jesus Christ, and sustained by the Holy Spirit. Therefore, let marriage be held in honor by all."

The minister paused to give everyone a chance to recover from this rather circular speech. "If the congregation will rise…" There was a distinct rumbling sound as everyone got to their feet.

"Let us pray: Gracious God, you are always faithful in your love for us. Look mercifully upon Oliver and Haley, who have come asking your blessing. Let your Holy Spirit rest upon them, so that with steadfast love they may honor the promises they make this day, through Jesus Christ our Savior. Amen."

Everyone sat, and Rachel began to feel tingling in her feet. She was not used to wearing high heels. She shifted uncomfortably, and Seamus winked and gave her a thumbs-up when she caught his eye.

"Oliver," said the minister, looking to the Quidditch player, "understanding that God has created, ordered, and blessed the covenant of marriage, do you affirm your desire and intention to enter this covenant?"

"I do," said Oliver, swallowing visibly.

"Haley," the minister continued, turning to the bride, "understanding that God has created, ordered, and blessed the covenant of marriage, do you affirm _your_ desire and intention to enter this covenant?"

"I do," Haley said firmly.

"Friends and family of this couple, do you give your blessing to Oliver and Haley, and promise to do everything in your power to uphold them in their marriage?"

"We do," the congregation rumbled.

"Let us pray," said the Reverend. "God of mercy, your faithfulness to your covenant frees us to live together in the security of your powerful love. Amid all the changing words of our generations, speak your eternal Word that does not change. Then may we respond to your gracious promises by living in faith and obedience, through our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen."

The reverend cleared his throat. "'Set me as a seal upon your heart, as a seal upon your arm; for love is strong as death, jealousy is cruel as the grave. Its flashes are flashes of fire, a most vehement flame. Many waters cannot quench love, neither can floods drown it. If a man offered for love all the wealth of his house, it would be utterly scorned.' Song of Solomon 8:6-7.

"Will the congregation rise for the exchange of the wedding vows?"

Everyone got to their feet again. "Oliver, Haley," said the minister, "since it is your intention to marry, join your right hands, and with your promises bind yourselves to each other as husband and wife."

Haley and Oliver took the other's hands.

"If there be anyone who has any opposition to this marriage, let them speak now or forever hold their peace."

The congregation was silent.

"Oliver, let Haley hear your troth."

Oliver turned to Haley, took a deep breath, and said slowly and deliberately, "Haley, darling, I think I first fell in love with you when I saw you with your nose in a book and ink marks all over your face. It was our first year at school together, and, to tell you the truth, I was smitten. People laughed at us for a while when we started dating—the House sports captain and the resident bookworm—but I didn't care. You were perfect—you _are_ perfect. I still can't believe I'm the guy you chose," he added with a slight chuckle. "But I love you more than anything, Haley, I really do. I can't wait to be able to tell you that every day for the rest of our lives."

The girls each had to repress shivers of romantic delight.

"Haley, let Oliver hear _your_ troth."

Haley smiled. "Oliver—my Ollie-bear—I honestly had no idea you liked me that much until the end of our fifth year. I should've noticed—I mean, I thought you were the best thing that ever happened to Gryffindor. Your complete foolishness when it came to your team stole my heart, Oliver, it really did. You still make my heart pound like crazy when I hear your voice. Someday when we're old and grey you'll ask me to pass the potatoes and I'll die of a heart attack!"

There was laughter, and Haley chuckled, wiping away a few stray tears. "I chose you, Oliver, because you are the most wonderful man that ever walked the earth. If I live to be a thousand years old, I'll still pick you over any other man that lived. Even over Feanor. I think that shows how much I love you, Ollie."

The chapel exploded in spontaneous applause, and a boy in a stiff-looking tuxedo got up and stood at the ready.

"What do you bring as the sign of your promise?" the Reverend asked.

The boy practically leapt forward with the two rings on a scarlet pillow. The Reverend took one and held it aloft. "By your blessing, oh God, may these rings be to Oliver and Haley symbols of unending love and faithfulness, reminding them of the covenant they have made this day, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen."

Oliver took the ring from the Reverend. "This ring I give you, Haley, as a sign of our constant faith and abiding love." And he slipped the ring onto her finger.

Haley, who was obviously shaking with excitement, took the other ring from the reverend, slipping it onto Oliver's finger. _"This_ ring _I_ give you, as a sign of our constant faith and abiding love."

The reverend nodded. "Let us pray: Eternal God, without your grace no promise is sure. Strengthen Oliver and Haley with patience, kindness, gentleness, and all other gifts of your Spirit, so that they may fulfill these vows they have made. Keep them faithful to each other and to you. Fill them with such love and joy that they may build a home of peace and welcome. Guide them by your Word to serve you all their days. Help us, oh God, to do your will in each of our homes and lives. Enrich us with your grace so that, supporting one another, we may serve those in need and hasten the coming of peace, love, and justice on earth, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen."

"Amen," echoed the congregation.

"Now—do you, Oliver, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?" the reverend asked.

"I do," said Oliver.

"Do you, Haley, take this _man_ to be your lawfully wedded _husband_?" the reverend continued.

"I do," said Haley.

"Then join me as we say the Lord's Prayer. Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed by thy name; thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors. Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory forever. Amen."

The air was filled with breathless expectancy, and not a soul stirred in the entire chapel.

"Before God, and in the presence of this congregation, Oliver and Haley have made their solemn vows to each other by the joining of hands and by the giving and receiving of rings. Therefore, I now pronounce you, Oliver and Haley, _husband and wife._ Oliver, you may kiss the bride."

With a grin, Oliver leaned over Haley's bouquet. The entire congregation 'awwed' simultaneously as the newly married couple kissed.

"Whatever you do," the reverend continued, "in word and deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God through him. The Lord bless you and keep you. The Lord be kind and gracious to you. The Lord look upon you with favor and give you peace. Go and be blessed."

Oliver took Haley's hand, and together they went back down the aisle to joyful cheering from the congregation. The groomsmen and the bridesmaids followed after, leading the rest of the people in an almost mad rush to collect the packets of rose petals and bottles of bubbles from the attendants.

"Stop right there!"

Everyone froze. But it was only the wedding photographer talking to Oliver and Haley and snapping away madly. First, sentimental ones of the newlyweds smooching and gazing romantically into each other's eyes; then family ones with the Schreiters and the Woods, then both families; and finally wedding-party ones.

"Come along, miss," the photographer snapped at Rachel, who was highly reluctant to have her picture taken.

Seamus shooed her towards the snowy steps, and she mournfully got into place behind Hannah and was forced to smile through five or six different shots.

But it was soon over, and a long white limo was pulling up in front of the cathedral, much to the excitement of the guests that were lining the long path to the street. With sappy sweet smiles at each other, Oliver and Haley Wood made their way through flying rose petals, congratulating guests, and shimmering bubbles to the limousine that would carry them to the reception.


	18. Ah, the Many Wonders of Schmex

**Chapter Eighteen:**

**Ah, the Many Wonders of Schmex**

The ride to the Cambridge Bros. Banquet Hall was short and quiet. Rachel and Seamus were both unnaturally silent, and they looked alternately at their hands and at each other. There was something in the air of the car, and it made everyone uneasy.

Not a moment too soon, Mrs. Finnigan pulled into the parking lot and turned off the car. "Ready for fun?" she sang out, tucking the keys into her purse and popping the trunk open. Before Tanya or Katelyn (Hannah and Dean had ridden with the Schreiters as a result of the lack of space in the Finnigan car) had time to wonder why, Rachel and Seamus unbuckled their seatbelts and got out.

"You ready to do this?" they heard Seamus ask Rachel.

"Not really," she replied, and the trunk slammed shut.

"It sounds like they're planning a hit," Tanya whispered fearfully as she and Katelyn got out. For a moment, Katelyn thought she was right—Seamus had a guitar case in his hands, and he and Rachel were discussing some sheets of paper in low voices.

"What are you doing?" she asked aloud.

They looked up guiltily. "Nothing, nothing at all," Rachel replied. To Seamus, she said, "Here. Why don't you hold onto these so I don't lose them."

"Sure." He took the papers from her hands, flipped the latches on the case, and set the papers atop a glossy butternut-yellow guitar.

"So it's _not_ a hit," Katelyn sighed.

Rachel and Seamus raised their eyebrows.

"Never mind. Let's just go in."

So they entered the posh banquet hall. The floors leading to the French doors were plushy burgundy velvet, and bright lights lined the wood paneled walls. "This _is_ ritzy," Tanya commented, looking around with awe.

The doors swung open behind them and in swept Hannah, Dean, the Schreiters, and what seemed like several of their close relatives. "Where's the party?" Mr. Schreiter called.

"Right ahead," Mrs. Finnigan chirped back.

The press of incoming guests was now almost oppressive, so Dean went forward and opened the doors. They were greeted immediately by loud chattering, clinking of dishes, and gentle piano music, along with the lacy smells of poinsettias and holly. Indeed, beautiful garlands of red and green graced each table, a glossy grand piano was being played by a suave man in a black tux, people were milling about and sitting at white-covered tables, and several service-people were placing fluted champagne glasses at the long table on the other side of the room. Gentle lights shone on the polished wooden floor, and black-covered speakers peeked out from under the shining dais.

"Well, this _is_ nice," Katelyn said.

"Excuse me," interrupted a waiter in a black vest. "Groom's or bride's side?"

Rachel motioned for Katelyn, Hannah, and Tanya to join her. "I suppose you could say bride, since we're Haley's bridesmaids."

"And you, ma'am?" he asked Mrs. Finnigan.

"Moira and Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas," she replied in a business-like tone. "Bride's side."

"Right this way, please." The waiter led the group to one of the large round tables next to the long one on the other side of the dance floor. They started to shed their cloaks and drape them on the chairs, but the waiter said quickly, "Oh! Young ladies, your seats are _here_." He indicated the adjacent side of the main table.

So Tanya, Rachel, Katelyn, and Hannah migrated a few inches to the left and chose the last four seats at the main table. "How long is it until it begins?" Mrs. Finnigan asked.

The waiter consulted his watch. "About five minutes, ma'am."

"Thank you."

He bowed and went away, leaving them to gaze upon their surroundings. Deep, silky crimson curtains covered every inch of the walls and pooled elegantly on the floor; recessed lighting in the high ceiling above cast soft light on the rich white tablecloths below.

"This is _really_ ritzy," Tanya repeated.

"And there are a _lot_ of people here," Seamus said nervously.

"Since when are _you_ afraid of crowds?" Katelyn asked.

"I'm not afraid," he replied crossly, then refused to say more.

_"Chicas!_"

Haley, positively glowing, swooped down upon them and threw her arms around their necks.

"Hey, Mrs. Wood," Rachel said with a grin.

The blushing bride smiled and smoothed the front of her long white dress with a happy sigh. "I'm so glad you guys are here."

"Better than being at school," Katelyn replied cheerfully.

"You guys should get some food," Haley went on. "We'll talk later."

A half-hour later, everyone was still eating and talking when there was a series of sharp chinking sounds. The noise in the room died down as Oliver's best man pushed his seat back and stood up. "If I could have your attention, please," he said in a thick Scottish accent, "I'd like to propose a toast to my kid brother and his new wife."

_"Aha!"_ Rachel said quietly.

Oliver's brother raised his champagne glass. "I grew up with Oliver, and I must say, Haley, he's one hell of a guy. May you both live to be a hundred and two and annoy the living daylights out of your descendants."

"Hear, hear," the Funny Farm chorused, grinning.

Oliver's brother sat down, and before the noise level could escalate, Angela stood up and held her champagne glass aloft. "I am Haley's best friend," she began, "and I've known her for nearly nine years. I only hope that, Oliver, you will be able to handle her many mood swings. I happen to know that she's PMS'ing right now."

_"That's_ going to be inconvenient later on," Katelyn said matter-of-factly, much to the hilarity of all those within earshot. Oliver gulped.

Hannah then got up from the table, holding her water glass aloft. Seamus, Dean, Katelyn, Rachel, and Tanya looked on with surprised as their soft-spoken friend actually addressed a crowd. "Um," she began brilliantly, "Haley's my sister, and I sort of want to continued with what Angela was just saying. Oliver, Haley's a beautiful girl, but I have to tell you a few things first. Okay. So if you _really_ want to understand her, you're going to need to do some research. I suggest the _Lord of the Rings_ trilogy, both the movies _and_ the books, the Star Wars…um…series, _The Silmarillion_ by J.R.R. Tolkien, the movie _Troy_, the movie _Four Brothers,_ the movie _Pride and Prejudice,_ the movie…"

Hannah's list went on and on and on, and Oliver turned paler and paler and paler. "…and don't forget _AcceleRacers_ and _HotWheels._ Just thought I'd warn you."

Hannah nodded and sat down, and she had hardly taken a calming breath when Katelyn leapt up—everyone looked worried. "Haley, Oliver," she began. "Many congrats! You've gotten the warnings, Ollie darling, but here's another—not about Haley, but about her family" we're insane, crazy, loony, off our rockers…and we'll bug you and blackmail you until you're _just_—_like_—_us_!"

She gave a broad grin. "Welcome to the family, Oliver!"

"You know," Haley said thoughtfully as Oliver looked ready to pass out, "you're not related to me, Katelyn."

"Oh, well. It's all relative."

"She has a point," said Rachel, standing up. "I'm sorry to do this to you guys," she went on, addressing the newlyweds. "But mine's a lot less harmful than theirs, I promise."

"We believe you," Haley said simply.

"Well," Rachel began, "I've only known you guys for a few years. But it's been a _great_ few years! Haley, you're like an older sister to me. And Oliver—you were the world's greatest Quidditch—er…I mean, Rugby captain! Go Gryffindor, eh?"

"Absolutely right!" Oliver barked.

"And…I just think it's great that you guys are getting married. You're perfect for each other! Plus, it'll be a lot easier to visit you guys if you're in the same house."

She sat down, flushed with success.

Before the noise level could escalate, Mrs. Finnigan stood up with her champagne glass in hand. "I just want to tell a little story before we start the celebrations, just to illustrate how wonderful marriage can be."

Seamus began to look slightly worried.

"I remember one time," she began, "when Mr. Finnigan and I were resting in our bed together after a particularly _invigorating_ 'tussle'—"

Seamus turned so white that he perfectly complimented the tablecloth.

"—actually, Seamus," Mrs. Finnigan said, glancing at her son, "that was the night _you_ were conceived!"

"_Mam!"_

There were awkward laughs from the other guests.

"Anyways, we'd just gotten two new dogs the week before, and since our eldest, Francis, was off with Grandmum Cassie, Jack—that's my husband—had neglected to lock our bedroom door—"

"Mum," Seamus said warningly.

"So, like I said, we were resting, and I'd gotten up to use the bathroom when I heard Jack sigh and go, 'Oh, Moira, I love it when you lick my toes like that.' And I look, and Scottie and Red—the two setters—"

"_Mum._"

"—were slobbering all over his feet!"

Seamus' horrified cry of _'Mother!_' was drowned out by the laughter of the married guests present.

"Um…is your mother drunk?" Katelyn asked Seamus quietly.

"She's never touched a drop of alcohol in her life," he replied gloomily. "That's sparkling pear juice in her glass."

"So you mean…"

"Yup," he sighed. "That's my mother for you."

"I feel sorry for the woman that marries you someday, dear Seamus," Rachel said with a laugh.

"Ooh," Katelyn grinned. "Prophetic?"

Luckily for Katelyn, Rachel and Seamus had just taken drinks of extremely effervescent sparkling apple juice and so did not hear her.

A moment or so later, Rachel took a deep breath and stood up. "Seamus," she whispered, tugging at his hand. He looked up at her and nodded.

"Be back in a little bit, guys," he said, and the two disappeared into the shadows together.

Hannah, Dean, Katelyn, and Tanya traded surprised looks. "Are they going to…" Tanya left her sentence hanging.

The others shrugged. "Maybe they'll stop arguing now," Katelyn said hopefully.

"No such luck," Hannah replied. "Look!"

She was pointing towards the dais that the piano was resting on. The gentle music had stopped, and the tuxedoed man had gotten up and was offering the bench to none other than Rachel, who blushed and sat down. As she bent to adjust something by her feet, Seamus came onto the dais too, lugging a stool behind him; his polished butternut guitar was slung over his back and he had a stack of papers clutched in one hand. The clatter of voices and dishes had died down, and the hall was quiet as everyone turned to watch the two teenagers. The tuxedoed man brought two microphones on stands and placed one before both of them. Seamus got up on the stool and tapped the mike by his mouth; there was loud feedback, and everyone winced.

"Er…" he said, and his voice echoed strangely. "Can you hear me now?"

There was murmured assent.

"Good," Rachel chimed in, and the Americans in the crowd chuckled appreciatively.

"Well," Seamus went on. "I'm Seamus Finnigan, and as you can probably tell, I'm um, not from the groom's side, as I'm clearly _Irish_…"

"And I'm Rachel Hekman, and not from the groom's side, either, as I'm clearly _Dutch._"

"Quiet you," Seamus said good-naturedly. "Anyway, we're friends of both Haley and Oliver, and we didn't tell them we were going to do this—"

"So if anything happens to us, look at Haley—"

"But, well, it's called 'Anniversary Song' by one Al Jolson, and though it's not a wedding son, per se, it's still a nice sentiment. Yeah…that's about what Rachel told me to say. Anything else, Rachel?" he added sweetly.

"I don't know how you can stand to show your face in public now, Finnigan."

"Yes, well, I wasn't counting on my mother telling tales," he said sadly.

"Makes you think twice about getting married, doesn't it?"

"Actually, if I'm really allowed to torture my kids like that, then, hey! Sign me up."

Rachel had to laugh. "See, Haley and Oliver? There's hope yet!"

There was laughter, and Rachel got up and repositioned the mike so its head was in the body of the open piano. Seamus turned as she padded in her bare feet back to the bench. "Nice shoes."

She said something in reply.

"What?"

Rachel sighed, then came over and pulled the microphone to her mouth. "I said, _you_ try pedaling in five-inch heels!"

Seamus shooed her away. "Let's begin, then, shall we?" he said, then turned to Rachel and counted off. The notes of Mozart's 'Funeral Hymn' came plodding out, until Seamus said, "Not that one!"

"Sorry, sorry."

This time, a gentle, slightly haunting melody rippled from the piano, once again weaving in and out of the guitar accompaniment. Then Seamus—who really didn't have a bad voice—began to sing.

"_Oh! How we danced on the night we were wed._

_We vowed our true love, though a word wasn't said._

_The world was in bloom, there were stars in the skies,_

_Except for the few that were there in your eyes._

"_Dear, as I held you so close in my arms,_

_Angels were singing a hymn to your charms._

_Two hearts gently beating were murmuring low:_

'_My darling, I love you so!'_

"_The night seemed to fade into blossoming dawn._

_The sun shone anew but the dance lingered on,_

_Could we but relive that sweet moment sublime,_

_We'd find that our love is unaltered by time._

"_Dear, as I held you so close in my arms,_

_Angels were singing a hymn to your charms._

_Two hearts gently beating were murmuring low:_

'_My darling, I love you so!'_

_----------------------------------_

_(A/N: WE LIVE ONCE AGAIN! Whoo, it's good to be back! Please accept our heartfelt apologies, readers, for this unacceptable delay. We blame school and unavoidable circumstances for hindering our updates! So, enjoy this late Christmas present from us!_)


	19. In Which People Dance

**Chapter Nineteen:**

**In Which People Dance**

The hall broke out in applause, and Rachel and Seamus bowed quickly and hurried off the stage as music to yet another song frilled the air. This music, however, was coming from the speakers. "This song, ladies and gentlemen," crooned a voice from the PA, "is for the happy couple, Haley and Oliver."

Haley, looking positively radiant, and Oliver, who had eyes only for the woman next to him, came out onto the polished dance floor. The song was "You and Me," and Mrs. Schreiter burst into joyful tears and had to be calmed down with a glass of champagne.

They made a very pretty picture, gliding along quietly and mushed romantically together. "Aw, that is so sweet," Tanya whispered.

Rachel slipped back into her seat, her strappy black sandals dangling lifelessly from one hand. "Yeah…" She looked wistful.

"Hey," Dean said softly, leaning over. "You and Seamus did brilliantly!"

"Thanks, mate." Seamus slid into the chair next to Rachel and was shushed by several guests. "I guess that the Three Broomsticks really _was_ a good place to practice, after all," he continued in a whisper.

At last, the music faded away, and the guests leaned forward expectantly. Suddenly, a very bouncy, maraca-rific rhythm burst from the speakers. The guests cheered, and Haley and Oliver were quickly joined on the floor by the majority of them, all "boogyin' down" to "Walk Like an Egyptian."

"Come on, I love this song!" Katelyn squealed, and caught Seamus' hand and dragged him out onto the floor.

Tanya and Rachel quickly found themselves alone at the head table. Even Mrs. Finnigan—already past her due date and looking ready to pop out a baby at any moment—was out cutting a rug with Oliver's grandfather. Eventually, one of Haley's extended relatives came and asked for "Tanya's hand" when the next song began. And so the "Cha-Cha Slide" and the "Macarena" and "Love Shack" went by, Rachel sitting comfortably with her feet on the back of another chair and her nose in a worn library copy of _Pride and Prejudice._

Finally, "Love Shack" started wrapping up, and Seamus escaped from Katelyn's Azkaban-like clutches and staggered back to his seat. When he saw Rachel, however, chuckling as she flipped a page, he stopped. "Hey—" he said. "Why aren't you dancing?"

She glanced up. "Oh—well, I…just didn't feel like it. That's all. Having fun?"

Her question was sincere, but Seamus could see the disappointment behind her smile. "Yeah, I guess. But I'd have more fun dancing with you, I think."

Rachel looked flattered. "Aw, thanks, Seamus!"

Just then, "Love Shack" ended, and a tango-like piano song started. Rachel's eyes widened. "Oh, goodness. Even for Haley, this is…"

Seamus paid no attention to this. "So…d'you want to?"

"Want to what?"

"Dance with me."

_"No!_" she cried, then saw Seamus' wounded expression and quickly recanted. "No—no—what I meant was not that I didn't want to dance with _you_—just not this song."

"Why not?" asked Seamus, who was still slightly hurt.

"Listen to the words, my friend. It's Tom Lehrer."

_"Oh, I ache for the touch of your lips, dear,_

_But much more for the touch of your whips, dear._

_You can raise welts_

_Like nobody else_

_As we dance to the Masochism Tango!"_

People were fleeing from the dance floor, and Dean, Hannah, Tanya, and Katelyn soon joined them. "What a nightmare," Hannah sighed.

"I don't get it," said Seamus. "What's so bad about 'masochism tangos'?"

"Katelyn, you explain," Rachel said, and hid her face as Katelyn cupped her ears around her mouth and explained to Seamus how people find…er…pleasure in causing pain to others.

Poor Seamus sagged into his seat and stared off into space, his freckled cheeks white as a sheet. "Nice going, Katelyn," Hannah sighed. "Corrupting the youth of Athens—America. Er, England. Well, perhaps Ireland. Gosh! You really get around, don't you!"

A grin tugged at Seamus' lips at this, and Rachel patted his hand. "There, there, dear Zorro. We all had the same reaction as you did, I can assure you. When I was younger, before I knew what it meant, I used to parade around the house singing it as loud as I could. Then I found out…"

He laughed at this. "I pity your parents."

"You know what? I do too."

"Oh, good," Tanya said suddenly. "The song's almost over!"

"Will you dance the _next_ song with me, then?" Seamus asked Rachel.

"Oh, all right," she said, blushing, and happily tucked her book away.

"Masochism Tango" finally ended, and the younger guests cheered as a pulsating hip-hop rhythm vibrated the floor.

"What _is_ this?" Hannah asked in horror.

"It's Seeed!" Dean said with delight. "'Riddim No 1'!"

"Aren't they the German reggae-slash-rap group?" Rachel asked thoughtfully.

"Yeah."

"Oh, my dad listens to them."

"Does it have words?" Seamus asked, fearfully.

"Yes, but it's all in German," Dean assured him.

"Right, then," Seamus said to Rachel, and gestured toward the floor. "Shall we?"

"Okay," she said, blushing furiously.

And so the two of them went out onto the floor and were lost to sight. Hannah and Dean, who now seemed virtually inseparable, were quick to follow. Tanya went off again with Haley's relative, and Katelyn twiddled her thumbs for a while before sneaking a glance at Rachel out on the floor and pulling _Pride and Prejudice_ out of the bag.

When "Riddim No 1" was over, Katelyn looked up expectantly. The new song was a stuffy classical piece, and the young, uncultured dancers made way for the old or incredibly in love. Dean, Hannah, Tanya, and Seamus returned, but there was no sign of Rachel.

"What have you _done_, Irishman?" Katelyn cried. "We let you have _one_ dance with our Sushi and you let her escape? _She was on loan from the zoo!_ Oh, whatever shall we tell the ape house…?"

"She went to request a song from the music blokes," Seamus said. "Katelyn, breathe."

"What, did you not want to slow dance?" Dean asked with a wicked grin. Hannah elbowed him.

"Well, _I_ wanted to," Seamus said quietly, looking out onto the dance floor. "But…ah, well. Whatever makes her happy, I guess."

Katelyn was doing the 'Ooh, I'm getting the warm-n-fuzzies' dance behind him, and Tanya had to physically restrain her friend, who was so incredibly hyper she was bouncing up and down in Tanya's arms.

It was at this crucial moment in time that Rachel reappeared. "Hey, guys, sorry about that."

"Did you get your song?" Dean asked.

She nodded happily. "Got it bumped up to next, too?"

"How'd you do that?" Katelyn asked, calming down significantly.

"I volunteered you to dance with the sound guy," Rachel answered matter-of-factly.

"You _what_?" Katelyn shrieked.

"Oh, calm down," Rachel replied. "He's the younger brother of the sound techs and they won't let him go unless he has someone to dance with. He's bored and lonely."

"How old is he?" Katelyn asked doubtfully.

"About sixteen—maybe fifteen," Rachel answered. "He seems really nice. Plus…he's a redhead."

Katelyn brightened at this. "Well, I suppose a few dances won't hurt."

"Atta girl," Rachel said happily. "Seamus—you _will_ dance this one with me, won't you?"

"Sure!" he said quickly. "Wait—does it…"

"Yes, it has words, but it's from the 1940s so it's perfectly clean," Rachel soothed.

"The 1940s…?" Dean echoed.

Rachel nodded. "'Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy.'"

There were five blank looks.

"'Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy,'" Rachel said slowly, "by the Andrews Sisters…"

There were five blank looks.

"You uncultured cretins!" Rachel cried. "Well—at least I know what I'll be doing this Christmas break."

"What?" Tanya asked.

"Giving you guys a crash course in American history, of course!"

Katelyn and Hannah groaned, and Rachel put her hands on her hips. Seamus, recognizing the danger signs, took her hand and tugged her towards the dance floor as the classical music ended. There was a grinding sound, and then a scratchy trumpet began playing rather slowly.

"Is this it?" he asked.

Rachel shook her head, eyes twinkling. "Just wait."

Suddenly, the 40s swing beat really began. "Ah," Seamus said, grinning.

When the energetic song ended, Rachel and Seamus returned, breathless with laughter, with a tall, gangly red-haired teenager tagging along behind. "Katelyn," Rachel called.

Katelyn glance up from _Pride and Prejudice_, then caught sight of the redhead and sighed almost inaudibly.

"Katelyn, this is Eric. Eric, this is Katelyn," said Rachel, gesturing between them.

Eric blushed and grinned. "Hi, Katelyn."

_Awkward,_ Katelyn thought. But out loud she said, "Hi, Eric. Want to dance?"

Rachel gave her a grateful smile as the two perfect strangers went out onto the floor to dance to "Hamster Dance," a song that most of Oliver's wizarding relatives had never heard before—or Haley's, for that matter.

Dean, Hannah, Seamus, and Rachel took this opportunity to snatch a well-needed rest. Hannah was beginning to regret not bringing flip-flops to change into, as Rachel had, and they were all pink-cheeked with exertion.

"Great wedding, eh?" Dean asked finally.

"I'll say," Rachel replied. "First, Haley wanted to marry Oliver, then she didn't, then she did, and then she didn't. I hope she realizes she can't change her mind now. She's got the ring and the name."

Seamus was about to respond, but instead let out a large sneeze.

"Gesundheit," Hannah said.

"Danks," he replied. "Rachel—hab you got ady tissues?"

"Yeah, in my bag. The little pocket on the inside."

"So—what do you mean about Haley not wanting to get married?" asked Dean.

"Cold feet," Hannah answered. "She just got nervous. I mean, can you blame her? It's a big respon—"

"Hey, Rachel," Seamus interrupted, blowing his nose in a Kleenex. "Why do you have so many tubes of lip balm? Look—one, two, three, _four_ unopened tubes."

Rachel batted the Chapstick out of his hands and back into the bag. "None of your business, I'm afraid. Though I'm sure you'll find out, eventually."

"Wha—"

But then "Hamster Dance" ended, and a pretty Handel orchestra piece began. "Do you wanna dance, Hannah?" Dean asked for what must have been the millionth time that evening.

"Okay," she said without hesitation, and they stood up together and went onto the floor, leaving Rachel and Seamus to twiddle their thumbs in what was suddenly rather uncomfortable silence.

"Well," Rachel said to break the tension.

"Do you want to dance with me?" Seamus blurted out rather foolishly in response. He winced and waited for a gentle letdown.

"Sure," Rachel said softly.

Seamus felt very solemn as he took her hand and led her towards the floor. This was not a laughing matter—it was a serious dance, with no joking around in the asking.

The floor was nearly deserted, as it was not necessarily a slow song, and the two had no trouble getting in step and remembering how to waltz.

"You did really well tonight," Rachel said after a pause.

"Thanks," Seamus said, intently watching his feet as he'd sworn not to step on her bare toes in his hard-soled shoes. "You, too."

"Thanks for agreeing to do that with me."

"You're welcome. You know…I actually really like it when we…y'know, play together." His ears turned bright red.

Suddenly, Rachel stopped and threw her arms around him, squeezing him tightly and pressing her cheek to his shoulder. He patted her back awkwardly as other couples had to swerve to avoid them. "Are…are you okay?" he asked after a moment.

She stepped back, swiping at her eyes. "Yeah—yeah."

He pulled her back into the waltz so they wouldn't get trampled, but his touch was distinctly gentler. "People who are okay don't usually cry."

"Oh?" she asked. "And who made you philosopher all of a sudden?"

"Rachel." His tone was reproachful.

"I'm sorry," she said with a pause. "It's just…a lot of things all at once, you know?"

Seamus made a noncommittal sound.

"I mean…" Rachel went on thoughtfully, "with all the Yule Ball chaos, Haley's wedding, all the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang people at school, it's a little stressful. Plus, I hate putting on makeup and doing my hair and stuff—but you don't understand _that_. At least, hopefully."

He pinched her fingers, and she grinned.

"You know what I mean. There are reasons why I don't wear makeup and dresses that are separate from the reasons _you_ don't."

"Like being male, for instance?"

"That was so close to being an insult that it doesn't deserve a response."

Seamus recognized dangerous ground and wisely backed down.

There was silence between the two for the next few minutes, and they both switched their concentration to perfecting their waltz. (Rachel was having difficulty with not leading.) Once or twice they almost literally bumped into Hannah and Dean, who were so involved in their conversation that Rachel and Seamus weren't even noticed.

"They'll crack, sooner or later," Rachel said softly.

"What do you mean?" Seamus asked.

Rachel gave a quiet chuckle. "Isn't it obvious? Hannah and Dean are head-over-heels for each other. I'm estimating sometime in the next three weeks."

"Estimating what?" Seamus was feeling distinctly frustrated at his stupidity.

"They're going to start going out, I think," Rachel said, blushing.

Seamus let this information sink in for a moment as Haley and Angela went past, performing a complicated polka. "Wow," he said finally.

Rachel nodded. "Makes us look at each other in a different way, doesn't it? I mean, 'us' as in 'the Funny Farm'." She blushed a brilliant red.

Seamus felt rising in his own face, and his voice came out painfully weak until he cleared his throat vigorously. "Yeah. Well, about that…there's—there's something I've sort of been meaning to tell you—"

"Wait!" she cried, looking away. "I'm sorry—but someone's kissing your mom!"

Seamus stopped dancing so suddenly that Rachel ran into him, lost her balance, and tumbled to the floor. When she'd gotten her breath back, Seamus had recovered from his horror and helped her back to her feet.

"Aren't you going to do something about it?" she asked breathlessly, brushing off her dress and pushing stray hair out of her face.

"Well, that would defeat the purpose," Seamus replied. "That's my da."

"Oh," Rachel said. "Well."

And Seamus strode quickly from the floor towards his parents. Rachel, feeling suddenly abandoned, followed shyly.

"…A wonderful surprise, isn't it?" Mrs. Finnigan was saying.

"How'd you get here, Da?"

"Hopped the ferry," Mr. Finnigan replied. He was tall, like Seamus, with ruddy skin, dark hair, and a liberal amount of freckles splashed over his nose and cheeks. "Frances told me to tell you 'hi'."

"He's back _again_?" Mrs. Finnigan sighed.

Mr. Finnigan shrugged. "It's hard to hold down a Muggle job when you've missed two and a half years of primary school."

"I _know_, Jack, I know," said Mrs. Finnigan. "I just wish he would try a little harder, that's all. Oh—Seamus, love, are you just going to let Rachel stand there? Introduce your father to her."

Seamus turned to his left, and then blinked in confusion. Rachel cleared her throat, and he turned ninety degrees to his right and saw her. "Sorry, sorry, I thought you were here," he said sheepishly, motioning to the empty space next to him.

"Uh _huh_."

"Da," Seamus went on, tugging Rachel to his side. "This is my friend, Rachel. Rachel, this is my da."

Rachel stuck out her hand and shook Mr. Finnigan's hand. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Seamus' da."

Mr. Finnigan grinned. "Nice to meet you, too. I've heard a lot about you."

"Oh, goodness," Rachel sighed. "Good or bad? Actually, don't answer that."

Mrs. Finnigan laughed. "Oh, don't worry, love, it's all been good."

"Mam," Seamus said reproachfully, "don't lie."

_"Seamus!_" Rachel said with mock affront.

"Yes, ma'am, shutting up," he replied, and began to loosen his tie.

Rachel beamed. "Don't worry, Mr. Finnigan. I take very good care of Seamus during the year."

"Now, if only she could take care of her _own_ business," Seamus couldn't help but say.

"Shut up, you."

"You shut up."

"You."

"You!"

"You!"

"Guys," Mrs. Finnigan cut in. "I hate to interrupt this enlightening conversation, but it's getting late."

"It's time to go?" Seamus sounded disappointed.

"Not yet, love," Mrs. Finnigan soothed. "A few more dances, then you can say goodbye to Haley and Oliver. I want to get you all back to Hogwarts before it gets terribly late, especially since the Yule Ball is in a few days."

"So…about half an hour?" Rachel asked.

"Sure. Go on, then."

And so Seamus and Rachel scampered off.

* * *

_(A/N: OH MY GOSH IT'S BEEN FIVE MONTHS SINCE OUR LAST UPDATE!! Wow. That's really, really sad! Please review and tell us how awful we are...:( Of course, Schmurf's had the longhand copy for a VERY LONG TIME...maybe I should stalk her so she'll write faster.)_


	20. Of Chapstick and Things Almost Happening

**Chapter 20:**

**Of Chapstick and Things Almost Happening**

Seamus and Rachel scampered off at Mrs. Finnigan's insistence, and went to find the rest of the Funny Farm. Hannah and Dean were out dancing again, and Katelyn had returned from her dances with Eric the sound guy.

"Hey, you two," she said when she spotted them. "So, uh…where've you been? Wink, wink, nudge, nudge, say no mo-ah, say no mo-ah!"

Rachel shot her such an evil-dark-lord's-going-to-keel-you-and-I'll-laugh look that Katelyn yelped and took cover on the opposite side of the table. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Katelyn whispered. "I'm just saying—you two went off alone, and—"

Rachel dove for her bag, and would have whipped out her want in front of dozens of Muggles, had not Seamus grabbed her arms and pulled her away from it.

"It's not worth it, Su," he said quietly.

Rachel flushed. "I _suppose_ you're right…I guess," she conceded. "But it would've been so much fun to hex her…"

Katelyn took this opportunity to flee.

"You're better at fixing people who've been hexed, my friend," Seamus said. "Ever notice how people always come to _you_ when they need a countercurse or help unhexing something?"

"I guess," Rachel sighed, and then got a funny look on her face. "Speaking of fixing things…"

Seamus blanched.

"…your tie. You _know_ it bothers me when you tie it around your head like that! Come here and let me fix it for you."

Seamus went willingly. Rachel got the tie's knot undone quickly enough, but when it came to doing it up again around his neck, she obviously faltered. "Er…"

"Do you remember how to tie a tie?" he asked.

"Well…" she replied. "I, um…usually just charm mine. I thought I remembered how, but then again I've never tied it around someone _else's_ neck before…"

"You'll be a terrible wife someday," he teased, and put his hands around hers to demonstrate, but she waved them away.

"That's why I'm practicing on you." She proceeded to tie the knot and arrange it neatly.

"Hey, you did it," he said.

"Oh, don't sound so surprised," Rachel replied with a grin, patting his chest.

Seamus decided at that moment that he would kiss her right then and there. He took a deep breath, put his hands on hers, leaned forward—and would have kissed her if Katelyn had not run up. "Guys, guys, guys!" she cried.

Rachel and Seamus jumped and blushed. "What, what, what?" Rachel asked.

"Haley and Oliver are leaving!" Katelyn replied. "They'll miss their flight if we don't hurry."

Rachel stepped out of Seamus' vicinity and hurried to get something out of her canvas bag, leaving Katelyn and Seamus in suddenly awkward silence.

"I saw what you tried to do, Finnigan," Katelyn hissed after a moment.

Seamus felt heat rising into his face. "What do you mean?"

Katelyn gave him a dark look. "As Rachel's friend and kinda-sorta-not-really sister, I feel it is my duty to warn you that if you make her cry, sad, cause her heart to break, or even _think_ about causing her any sort of emotional distress, article VI, paragraph III, section XII of the _Funny Farm's Rules to Dating and Love_ gives me free rein to personally disembowel you and castrate you with Rachel's tearstained Kleenexes. Just FYI."

Rachel chose this moment to return. "You look pale, Seamus. Are you all right?"

"He's fine," said Katelyn. "Come on, let's go say goodbye to the Woods!"

Together they joined Hannah, Tanya, Dean, and several unknown Wood relatives. The two newlyweds smiled and shook hands with and thanked the relatives, then turned to the Funny Farm and crushed them in hugs.

"Congratulations, you two!" Katelyn said, getting a little teary-eyed.

Haley gave her an extra hug. "Thanks, guys. I'll send you guys each a postcard every single day, I promise."

"Where is it you're going, again?" Dean asked.

"France and Italy," Haley said, eyes sparkling. "Ollie managed to convince Puddlemere United that he was going on a trip to scout out French and Italian teams. So we'll have to fit a few Quidditch games in while we're gone in order to be reimbursed."

"That's so evil!" Rachel exclaimed. "…I like it."

Oliver checked his watch. "Haley, the plane leaves in an hour."

"All right, darling, just one more minute," Haley said.

"Seamus, Dean, Oliver, could we have a moment of privacy, please?" Rachel asked.

"Sure thing," Seamus said with a salute, and the three men retreated.

"What is it?" Haley asked.

Rachel looked more than a little embarrassed. "Well, I just thought that if _Haley_ is off and married, it could happen to any of us."

"Hey!" said Haley.

"And since Haley is going to want to know every single aspect of our romantic lives—even though we're only fourth years—I thought we'd have a little 'secret code.'"

"What's that?"

Rachel handed everyone except Haley a tube of Chapstick. "I got this idea from Katelyn, from something she said to me a really long time ago. Don't ask me what it was, I can't remember. But the basic idea is this: after your first kiss, give us your Chapstick and we'll know. Then we'll mail it to Haley, and she'll know. Okay? That way, we won't have Hermione and Lavender and Parvati finding out. Well, Lavender and Parvati are really the only ones we have to worry about…but yeah."

"I like it," Katelyn said. "But remember—the _Funny Farm's Rules of Dating and Love_, article V, paragraph IV, section II clearly states that a first kiss consists of two consenting individuals. Each individual has to be active in the act of giving the kiss."

"Yes, Your Honor," Hannah said dryly.

"Sounds great!" Haley said, clapping. "But now I really have to go—I love you all! Hugs!" And thus she and Oliver hurried out of the door and into the night, where the only thing that shone brighter than Haley was the newly fallen snow glistening in the light of the moon.

--

_(A/N: Sorry this one's so short, but it came quick, didn't it! Yay for us! A last rash of updates before finals…)_


	21. Speaking of a Young Man's Fancy

**Chapter 21:**

**Speaking of a Young Man's Fancy...**

As soon as the door shut, Mrs. Finnigan bustled up with an armload of things. "It's time to go, loves, she clucked, and helped each teenager into his or her cloak. "Here's your bag, darling," she said to Rachel. "I put your book back into it, and your shoes, too."

"Aw, thanks, Mrs. Finnigan," Rachel said.

"Not a problem. Now, does everyone have everything…?"

"My guitar?" Seamus offered.

"In the car so you can take it back to school if you want."

"Oh. Thanks, Mam."

Mrs. Finnigan kissed her youngest and then began herding the others out. Hannah frantically administered final goodbye hugs and kisses amongst her family then joined the little cluster with her mother.

"Who wants to ride back to King's Cross with me and my mom?" she said.

"I do," Dean and Tanya said in unison.

"I'll ride with Mrs. Finnigan," Katelyn called.

Rachel stifled a sudden yawn. "I guess I will, too."

_"I call shotgun!_" Katelyn cried. "Ahahahaha, Rachel, get the front seat! I get the front seat!"

"Whatever, Kate, knock yourself out," Rachel replied with another yawn.

"You're really tired, aren't you?" Hannah said, her jaw dropping. "You _hate_ the backseat."

"'Tis true, but I'll manage. _¿Vamos?"_

"Right, right," Mrs. Finnigan said, clapping her hands. "Janis, we'll meet you at King's Cross?"

"What about Da?" Seamus asked.

"He left for the hotel already, love."

"Ah."

"_¿Vamos?_" Rachel repeated, now sounding rather pitiful.

Seamus put a bracing arm around her, and Mrs. Schreiter zipped up her parka.

"Let's make like trees and go, guys," she called.

Hannah rolled her eyes.

So everyone piled into the two cars. Mrs. Schreiter pulled out of the parking lot first, but Mrs. Finnigan rummaged through her purse for a moment and then declared that she had left her contacts book in the ladies' room and ran back into the building without turning the car on.

"Well, this gives us a chance to _chill_, then, doesn't it?" Katelyn said from the front seat, watching the breath rise from her mouth in clouds.

Rachel groaned. "Hardeeharhar. That was cheap. But you're right. It's an iceberg in here."

Seamus undid his seatbelt and slid into the middle seat, and tucked his arm around her again. Rachel, much too tired and cold to care for propriety, huddled close in return. Katelyn, hearing the rustling of fabric against leather seats, turned around, and opened her mouth to speak. A witheringly furious look from Rachel effectively silenced her, however, and she returned to her forward-facing position and began to whistle innocently.

The minutes dragged on, and when Rachel dropped off to sleep soon afterwards, Seamus put his other arm around her—but just to keep her warm, of course…

Katelyn turned. "Seamus Finnigan, you hopeless, hopeless man."

"What?"

She shook her head. "Look at you. You'd make Hitler cry, you're so pitiful."

_"What?"_

"Oh, don't give me that. You know exactly what. _Just tell her, you idiot!_"

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said stubbornly.

"Admit it. You're hopelessly in love with Rachel."

"I'm not in love."

"Okay, maybe not," Katelyn conceded. "I _will_ give you that—you're only fifteen. But you _are_ hopelessly in-_fatuated _with her. Face it, Seamus. The whole _world_ knows. You know Wes? One of the first things he said to me was _aren't you friends with that couple that always rows?_ I had to convince him you and Rachel _weren't_ a couple."

"Heh." Seamus tried hard to keep from grinning.

"It's not funny! I'm serious, here. This has dragged on long enough."

Seamus fixed her with an angry and wounded look. "It's easy for _you_ to say, Barcanic! _You_ don't have to worry about what will happen when you tell her! _You_ don't have to wonder if she will hit you or hate you or laugh at you, and what you will do after that! _You_ don't have to choose between the best friend you've ever had and the only girl you've ever liked this much!"

Katelyn looked startled. "Oh…! I…guess I never thought of it that way before."

Seamus sat back against his seat, his brow furrowed and his ears red. "Yeah. So don't even _start_ lecturing me about telling her."

She bit her lip and reached out to pat his hand. "I'm sorry, Seamus. I guess it's a little more complicated than I thought. I guess…I kinda forgot that you don't _only_ like Rachel romantically."

"She's my friend, first and foremost," he agreed.

At this moment, Mrs. Finnigan returned. Noticing the strained looks of both cognizant teens in her car, she stopped and looked about to ask what was the matter, but Katelyn said, "Seamus was just stressing about finals."

"Already?" Mrs. Finnigan asked. "Love, they're not until June."

"Oh, yeah," Seamus said. "I forgot. Let's go."

"All right. Looks like Rachel needs a proper bed, anyhow."

Katelyn winked at Seamus and patted his knee a final time before turning around. Mrs. Finnigan started the car, and they left the parking lot and made their way back to King's Cross. As the constant orange glow of streetlights flashed over the car's interior, Seamus tightened his arms around Rachel, and then, after a moment's thought, reached down and tenderly kissed her hair. Though she didn't say a word, Mrs. Finnigan noted this small act of affection via the rearview mirror, and she went on driving with a contemplative expression on her face.

--

It was nearly two in the morning when all of the students stumbled away to their respective dorms after having been let in by an extra-cranky Mr. Filch. Rachel, Katelyn, Tanya, Dean, and Seamus climbed the stairs to Gryffindor Tower slowly, their languid conversation punctuated numerous times by yawns. Rachel and Seamus and Tanya were pink-cheeked, bleary-eyed, and tousle-haired, as they'd fallen asleep on the long train ride home: Tanya on Hannah's shoulder, Rachel in Seamus' arms (again!), and Seamus against the compartment wall. Hannah, Katelyn, and Dean, however, were wide-awake with the same sort of awareness that results, from, say, binge drinking (i.e., some, but rather nonsensical).

"Wonderful wedding, though," Dean said with a yawn.

"Haley looked _so_ purdy," Katelyn slurred.

Rachel said the password, and they all clambered into the common room. "You know," Rachel said wistfully, "I never thought I'd consider this place home, but, there you have it. I'm glad to be back."

"No kidding," Tanya said. "…well, goodnight, all!" She gave a wave and climbed the stairs to the girls' dorm.

"Good idea," said Katelyn. "Come on, Hannah, Rachel. Bedtime."

"Wait, Hannah," Dean said. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Sure," she said. "Katelyn, I'll be up in a minute."

"I think I'm going to bed, too," Seamus said, stifling a yawn. He and the two girls went together towards the stairs.

"You go on up," Rachel said to Katelyn when they reached the little alcove between the two flights of steps. "There's something I need to tell Seamus. Hannah and Dean, it'll only take a sec, I promise."

Katelyn grinned knowingly and looked over at Seamus; his face was bright with pleasant surprise and tentative hope. "Okay." She scampered upstairs.

Seamus tried to disguise his anticipation as Rachel turned back to face him, not even caring that Dean and Hannah were watching curiously. His throat catching on the words, he began quickly, "Rachel, I really, really like—" at the same time that she began, "Seamus, I just want to thank you for—"

They both stopped. "Sorry, what did you say?" she asked, her expression inscrutable.

Seamus took a deep breath. "I said…I really…really liked hanging out with you tonight. I don't know why you were so worried about your waltz…it's fine."

"Oh," she said. That was it? _Oh?_

"What were you saying?" he asked hastily, feeling heat rise to his face from beneath his collar.

"Oh. Well, I just wanted to say thanks for putting up with me on the ride home. I don't usually do that…I guess I was just really tired. Thanks for letting me sleep on you…and for keeping me warm. It was nice of you. Really nice of you."

"You're welcome," he said resignedly, feeling a little foolish and a lot disappointed.

"You didn't mind too much, I hope?"

"No, it wasn't a problem. I felt…it wasn't a problem."

"Okay," she said, grinning. "Goodnight, then."

"Goodnight."

They went their separate ways, then, and each went up to their dorm, Seamus closing the door a good deal louder than was necessary. Rachel noticed this but attributed it to Seamus not yet knowing the extent of his teenage strength. Tanya and Katelyn were already in bed when she came into the dormitory, and Hermione and Parvati and Lavender were sound asleep behind their magically soundproofed curtains.

"Where's Hannah?" Tanya asked as Rachel began to take pins that were holding her thick and unruly hair up.

"She's talking to Dean downstairs."

"Oh," said Katelyn with a grin, and tossed aside the book she'd been half-heartedly paging through.

"What do you plan on doing?" Tanya asked suspiciously.

"Nofing," Katelyn said innocently.

Rachel gave her an arch look. "Hannah's going to be mad when I tell her you've been speculating on her romantic life again."

Katelyn blanched.

"Katelyn's gonna get it, Katelyn's gonna get it," Tanya sing-songed.

At that moment, the dorm door swung open, and a strangely pink-cheeked Hannah slipped in. She froze when she saw the other three standing there.

"Hi, Hannah," Katelyn said with a wide grin. "So…"

Hannah looked livid.

"What were you doing with Dean?" Tanya asked, tactless as usual.

Hannah was bright red, but she dug into her pocket and chucked a small object at them before launching into her bed and ripping shut her bed curtains.

Rachel stooped down and picked up—the _Chapstick_.

_"Oh, my gosh!"_ Katelyn cried. "You kissed _Dean!_"

--

_(A/N: Wow! This chapter was jam-packed with stuff, wasn't it! Seamus finally admitted in no unclear terms how he feels about Rachel! Hannah and Dean finally succumb to the mutual attraction they've felt since at least third year! And the seeds for many future quarrels are sown…)_


	22. ANGST! YAY!

**Chapter Twenty-Two:**

**ANGST! YAY!**

Katelyn and Tanya stared in shock at the Chapstick Rachel held in her hand for a moment, then gathered around Hannah's bed.

"Come on, Schmurf," Katelyn said soothingly, patting the curtains gently, "tell us what happened."

"We _promise_ we'll all keep it a secret," Tanya added.

"Promise?" came a quiet squeak from behind the curtain.

"Promise!" Katelyn echoed. Suddenly, the curtains split open, and a small hand motioned for them to come onto the bed. Tanya pulled them all the way open to find Hannah sitting with her knees pulled up to her chin, looking puzzled.

"Well, what happened?" Rachel asked.

"I don't know, it all happened so quickly," Hannah answered.

"Tell us what you remember," Katelyn shrieked.

"Well," Hannah began, "Dean asked if we could talk, and I said yes. So we sat on the sofa, and, the next thing I know, he was telling me how much he liked being friends with me. I told him how much I liked being friends with _him_, and as we talked we got closer and closer…" At this point Hannah was beet red. "And then…we kissed! He held me close and kissed me…and I kissed _him_!"

She buried her face in her pillow and gave a loud shriek, which was hardly muffled.

"But everyone knows you and Dean like each other," Rachel said dryly. "Why are you freaking out about it like this? You oughtta be happy, not screaming about it into your pillow."

"I _am_ happy," Hannah protested. "I'm ecstatic!"

"Well, good," Rachel said deprecatingly.

Katelyn gave her a questioning look. "What's _your_ problem?"

"My problem?" Rachel echoed. "I don't have a problem. No problem. Geez."

"Anyway," Tanya said, "if you're so ecstatic, why are you screaming?"

"I just thought we'd wait a while longer and get more mature in our relationship before he began kissing me," Hannah cried. "It just seems too early. I mean, I'm only just barely fourteen! What if I end up not liking him anymore?"

"She's got a point, you know," Katelyn said.

"Oh, what do _you_ know, Katelyn?" Rachel snapped. "Hannah, this is stupid. You're never going to know what'll happen if you don't go along with it! You might be incredibly happy with him, happier than you've ever been in your whole life."

"But I don't want to take the chance," Hannah objected.

"Well, maybe _some_ people want you to!" Rachel cried. She then snatched her pajamas off her trunk and flung herself into her bed and tore shut the curtains.

Katelyn, Tanya, and Hannah exchanged bewildered looks. It wasn't often that Rachel's fierce temper was directed at _them_, and this was momentarily worrying. But then Hannah's face contorted.

"Does she still like Dean?" she whispered, her cheeks going all flushed.

Katelyn shrugged.

"Because if she does…" Hannah trailed off meaningfully.

"I think Rachel's PMSing," Tanya said in a regular voice, not quite grasping that the others were whispering for a reason.

Rachel flung her curtains aside just long enough to say furiously, "No, I am _not_, Tanya, and I'd thank you to keep your nose out of my business." With a snap, the curtains were shut again.

Tanya looked hurt. Katelyn and Hannah blinked a few times in horror—never, not once in her life, had Rachel ever yelled at soft-spoken little Tanya. Katelyn's nostrils flared protectively, and she strode over to Rachel's bed. "All right, Rachel Anne Hekman, what is the mater with you?" So saying, she pulled aside the drapes.

To everyone's surprise, Rachel was curled up with her stuffed rabbit and was crying as though her heart would break. As indignant as Katelyn was, she could never stay mad at a crying friend, and she sat down resignedly, putting her hand on Rachel's arm and rubbing it soothingly.

"Aw, Rachel, what's wrong?" Hannah asked, feeling a little put out by her spotlight being stolen but holding no real grudge. She and Tanya crept to the edge of the bed, almost afraid. Rachel hadn't truly cried in public since at least second year.

It took a moment for Rachel to collect herself. But she got her tears in check with an effort, and hid her eyes with a trembling hand. "It's nothing, guys, really. I'm sorry. It's nothing."

Tanya scoffed loudly, surprising them all. "Come on. Crying people usually aren't okay."

At this, Rachel began to cry again.

"Oh, hun, it's okay," Katelyn said sympathetically. Hannah had to keep from laughing, as it was rather funny to see Katelyn's maternal side come out. "You can tell us what's wrong."

Rachel shook her head miserably.

"Don't you trust us?" Hannah asked.

She took a shuddering breath. "It's not that…I don't t-trust you guys, it's that…I don't trust myself!"

No one said anything, and Rachel continued. "This is going to sound so wrong, but I guess with Hannah and Dean maybe it won't…but when I was…was…when I was dancing with Seamus tonight, I…I felt really funny."

"You should've taken your inhaler beforehand," Tanya said wisely.

Rachel shook her head. "No, not like that. Like…all tingly and giggly and I couldn't get my heart to stop beating so fast. And I've felt like that for a while…but when he was holding me on the way home tonight, I guess I finally accepted the fact that...I really, really liked it. I realized I was hoping he'd hold me longer, or…or maybe even _kiss_ me! _I like my best friend!_"

She buried her face in her hands and began to cry again. Katelyn was white with shock, and she covered her mouth with one hand. But Tanya and Hannah were rather blasé.

"Really?" Hannah said dryly. "Katelyn, why are you so surprised?"

Katelyn looked at her and mouthed that Seamus had told her the same thing earlier. Tanya looked interested.

"How long did this take you to figure out, hun?" Katelyn asked, recovering. "It's been kinda obvious to _us_, but when'd _you_ realize this?"

"I guess I first noticed it at the end of last year," she admitted.

"But why are you so upset about it?" Hannah soothed.

"Because it's never going to work," Rachel said, sounding absolutely miserable. "He's never going to like me back, and…yeah, I guess it'll go away after a while, if I try not to let it out of hand. I'll have to detach myself from him a little. What if I accidentally let it slip?"

"It might not be as big of a deal as you'd think," Katelyn started, but Rachel shook her head.

"It's easy for you to say, because you and Wes have everything working for you. But Seamus and I fight so much…who knows what would happen?"

"That's true," Tanya said.

There was a pause, and then Hannah said quietly, "Is that why you were so mad a minute ago? Are you…jealous?"

Rachel nodded wretchedly. "Why can't _I_…I mean, Katelyn gets to go with her Wes, and _you_ got to kiss _your _Dean…but I'm stuck with liking someone I can't possibly have _and_ I have to go to the Yule Ball with someone who only makes me want Seamus to punch out his lights! Or, you know, I could do it, too…"

Tanya reached around and caught all of her friends in a hug. "There, there. I think we all need to go to sleep. We'll try and sort this all out in the morning, okay? Hannah, you can have all night to think about what to do with Dean, and Rachel can calm down a little and distance herself from these hormones."

They all stared at her.

_"What?_"

"Tanya actually had a good idea!" Katelyn exclaimed. "…Yay for Tanya!"

"What?" Tanya asked again, this time blankly.

"Never mind," Rachel said tiredly, and got slowly under her covers. The other girls changed and followed suit, and pretty soon each dropped off to sleep: Katelyn let her imagination run wild about her gorgeous Wes dancing her all over creation; Hannah mused over Dean's kiss; Rachel had wonderful but sickening dreams of Seamus' grin and his warm hands on her waist and around her fingers; and Tanya laughed in her slumber as licorice puppies frolicked and gamboled in cotton candy fields.

Tomorrow would be the Yule Ball.


	23. One Mucho Longo Convo

**Chapter Twenty-Three:**

**One Mucho Longo Convo**

Another day passed with all the Hogwarts students and professors getting ready for the Yule Ball, the biggest event in Hogwartian society yet that season. The girls, in particular, were busy figuring out just what they'd wear and how they'd do their hair, while the boys spent all day figuring out how not to embarrass themselves in front of their dates and doing boy things like charming paper airplanes to flap across the common room and bury themselves in the girls' hair and getting into numerous little scuffles to prove their manhood before the big, possibly emasculating, night.

However, not everyone was worried about the ball—the Funny Farm males, along with Harry and Ron, were busy talking about Dean's night with Hannah.

"Dean snogged Hannah! Dean snogged Hannah!" Seamus, Ron, and Harry singsong-ed through the corridor.

"Shut up!" Dean snapped.

"Oi, Dean!" the Weasley twins shouted, jogging up to the poor boy.

Dean slapped a hand over his eyes with a groan.

"We heard what happened last night between you and a certain girl whose sister is married to a certain Quidditch Keeper and whose name happens to start with an 'H'," George snickered.

"Dean and Hannah, sittin' on the couch, K-I-S-S-I-N-G," Fred shouted gleefully.

"First comes love," said Ron.

"Then comes marriage," Harry put in.

"Then comes a baby in the baby carriage!" Seamus whooped.

"It's not funny," Dean protested, darkly. "I might've gone too fast and—y'know…_scared_ her a little."

"Oh, come off it, Dean," Ron said off-handedly. "Every girl dreams of her first kiss."

"But it has to be from the right guy," Harry added.

Dean gave him a baleful look. "Thanks a ton, Harry. That made me feel _so_ much better."

"No problem."

"This will also make you feel better," Seamus said, quieting visibly. "…The girls are coming."

"Oh, _hell!"_ Dean hissed, and leapt behind Seamus.

"Hiya, guys, ready for the ball?" Seamus said, all-too-cheerfully, hoping to divert their attention from cowering Dean.

It was hard to ignore the fact that Dean was holding Seamus' robes out so as to further disguise his presence, but Tanya answered brightly, "We're all ready to…well…get ready. We just hope our dates are."

Rachel was staring at Dean's cringing form. "Er…Seamus? What's Dean doi—"

"_Lovely night, isn't it!_" Seamus bellowed, giving her furious and painfully obvious winks.

"Right…"

"Speaking of lovely nights, how are you, Dean?" Katelyn asked, a smirk on her face.

"That has nothing to do with lovely nights, I'll have you know," Seamus said with affront.

"Thank you, _Dean_," Rachel said, giving Seamus a _look_. He blew a puff of air that ruffled his sandy-colored hair and tugged his robes out of Dean's grasp, stepping away from the hunched teenage boy.

Dean lost his balance and toppled forward before regaining his footing and standing sheepishly.

"Hi," Hannah said, meekly.

"Hi," Dean mumbled.

There was a long few moments of uncomfortable silence, and then they both said "Bye," and escaped in opposite directions.

"Man," Seamus sighed, breaking the silence. _"That_ was awkward."

"And it's not like they can avoid each other, either, 'cause they're going to the ball together," Rachel replied.

"I feel sorry for Hannah," Tanya said sympathetically. "She was all dazed and confused last night."

"Hey, what about Dean?" Seamus said. "I know you girls don't give a rat's ass about—"

Rachel whopped him upside the head.

"—About men's feelings, 'n all," he continued undeterred, rubbing the back of his skull, "but Dean's really been beating himself up about the whole damn thing."

_Whop_.

"He can't stand thinking that he's gone and bloody hurt—"

_Whop_.

"Would you stop that?" Seamus bellowed, clapping his hands over the back of his sore head.

"Stop swearing, young man," Rachel cautioned, shaking a finger at him.

"I'll damn well say what I bloody please, thank you," he replied.

_Whop_.

"STOP THAT!"

Rachel gave an impish grin. "Oh, hush, you. You know you deserved it."

He snarled angrily at her, but was unable to do anything, because Fred cleared his throat noisily at the very moment that Seamus would have strangled Rachel. "You were saying, Seamus?"

He huffed and crossed his arms. "Anyway, Dean can't stand thinking that he's gone and hurt Hannah's feelings."

"Oh, you men are all crybabies," Katelyn said.

"That is a bloody lie and you know it," Seamus countered indignantly, catching Rachel's hand before she could thwap him.

Rachel looked impressed at his quick reflex, but she shook free and said, "Oh, really? You wanna bet?"

"I don't gamble."

"Well, _I_ recall one instance in first year when a certain plate of blueberry crisp landed on your Kenmare Kestrels t-shirt," Rachel said teasingly. "You cried like a little kid until I showed you the Scourgify spell."

"That was an extremely rare and precious artifact!" Seamus cried, so loudly that several people in the hall turned to look. "If you don't remember, it was autographed by the _entire_ Kestrels team, especially for me. Lynch wrote _'To my mate Seamus Finnigan. May you fly like the hippogriff and fight like the dragon.'_ Quigley wrote _'To S.F.: Fly on, little dude!' _Connolly wrote—"

"We've only heard this story a _million times,_ Seamus, mate," Ron interrupted.

Seamus looked displeased, and Rachel noticed and patted his arm. "There, there, Finnigan. We know how important the Kestrels are to you."

He grunted, but appeared appeased, so the conversation continued.

"What about the two star-crossed lovers?" George asked, with a smirk.

"Oh, let them be," Rachel said automatically. "There's nothing worse than being badgered about one's interest in somebody when there's absolutely nothing one can do about it. Besides—maybe they'll work it out tomorrow."

Katelyn and Tanya glanced at her, but the boys nodded. "That sounds like the easiest solution to our little problem," Fred said carelessly.

Seamus and Ron laughed. Rachel shrugged, and then the Funny Farm and the other Gryffindor boys went their separate ways for lunch.


	24. The Yule Bawl, Etc

**Chapter Twenty-Four:**

**The Yule Bawl (With Uber-Long Fluff Sequences, A Fight Scene, And Even More Fluff! Now With 20% Less Fat!)**

_(A/N: We are so sorry this took so long, everyone! Schmo, Schmurf, and I are juniors in high school, and while we've found time to nearly finish the shorthand version of this story (as HaloFin17 can attest to), I, Sushi, just haven't gotten around to typing it. Therefore, this chapter is dedicated gratefully to chitown4183, who reviewed my other story __**Sea Rat**__ and mentioned how much she wanted this one to be updated! Thanks again, chitown!_

_To everyone else, Merry Christmas if I get lazy again and don't update before then! :D)_

_--_

I really, really wish I wasn't going with Nickolay," Rachel groaned as she shut the door behind her. The dorm room was more crowded than usual this night, as Hermione, Parvati, Lavender, Rachel, Hannah, Katelyn, Tanya, _and_ Kim (who had gotten explicit permission from all present Gryffindors to enter their Tower) were packed into it. Parvati and Lavender had several cases of makeup each, all with their contents spilling out onto the floor, and several magic books were strewn about on beds, open to pages detailing how to curl hair with wands and how to charm lipstick to last longer. Frilly dresses were hanging off of every available hook.

Katelyn looked with sympathy at her friend, who had revealed only two days before just why, exactly, she was so averse to the thought. "I think it's nice that you're still going with him, even though you got an offer from—a—much more agreeable candidate." She faltered under Rachel's fierce gaze, and Kim shoved her into a chair, proceeding to heat up her wand to use either as a styling tool or a weapon, whichever was needed first.

"Oo," said Lavender. "Who else asked you, Rachel?"

"One of the Beauxbatons boys," Rachel answered before Tanya could open her mouth. "I don't know his name."

"Ow!" Katelyn cried. "Stop pulling."

"If you'd stop fidgeting, it wouldn't pull," Kim snapped back, flicking Katelyn's ear.

"At least you got asked nicely," Parvati said grumpily, smearing lipstick on. "I had to be messenger to Padma and tell her that Harry wanted her to be Ron's date. She didn't even know who Ron was!"

"You all are such sad losers," Lavender sang, pulling her red dress out of her trunk and ironing it with her wand. _"I_ got asked by someone I _wanted_ to accept."

"So did Hannah, you know," Rachel said.

Hannah blushed. "I don't know if I would've accepted him, had I known what he was going to do after Haley's wedding."

"Just forget about the kiss, Hannah!" Katelyn exclaimed. Kim tugged at her hair. "Ow! At least for tonight."

"Yeah," agreed Tanya, brushing her blonde hair. "Just have fun. I mean, it's not like you're going with a complete stranger, or anything like what _Rachel_'s doing."

"Thanks, Tanya," Rachel said dryly.

"I know I shouldn't be nervous," Hannah exclaimed, leaping off her bed and pacing back and forth. "But I can't help it! Ever since Dean kissed me, I've been a nervous wreck."

"You need to tell him how you feel," Parvati said wisely. "He'll never loosen up until he knows you're okay with it."

"I guess you guys're right," Hannah sighed.

"As usual," Rachel grinned.

"All right, I'll talk to him tonight," Hannah went on. "It's the only way to make it better, isn't it."

Lavender shook her head. "You all! Angsting about your boy troubles…"

"It's not like you've never had them before," Parvati said.

Shrugging, Lavender said, "I'm not having them now, then. _Seamus Finnigan_ asked me to the Yule Ball! _Seamus Finnigan!_"

"Correction," Rachel said, loudly, _"I_ asked you for him."

"Oh, yes," Lavender replied, "but I could tell by the look in his eye that he wants me…"

"That's not necessarily true," Katelyn pointed out.

Lavender ignored her and waltzed over to Rachel's bedside stand, where a simple frame housed a moving snapshot that Rachel had taken at the Quidditch World Cup. Seamus and his mother were smiling and waving out of it, but Lavender poked Mrs. Finnigan out of the frame and held Seamus' likeness to her heart. "I'm in love, and it's wonderful!"

Rachel's cheeks were burning red, and Hannah, Katelyn and Tanya noticed the look in her eye and realized that Lavender was in immediate and mortal danger.

"ACHOO!" Tanya yelled, causing Hermione, Lavender, Parvati, and Kim to look over. Meanwhile, Rachel took out her wand, Summoned the picture, and put it quickly in the drawer. Lavender looked put out.

_Meanwhile…_

"This is going to be the worst night of my life. I _hate_ dances."

"Shut up."

Seamus leaned against a chair with his hands in his pockets, scowling. "I only liked Haley's and Oliver's reception 'cause—'cause…" He trailed off, flushing as he visibly cast about for an excuse that wouldn't be the source of endless teasing.

"Because Rachel gave you her undivided attention?" Dean finished, looking infuriatingly smug.

"Shove it," Seamus replied darkly, which was an obvious affirmative.

"You need to get a life."

"You need to shove that right back up your ass, Dean."

"Don't take your frustration out on me," Dean said, with the superior air of a man who's tagged a girl before anyone else in his down. "I'm not the one ripped from a Shakespearean comedy."

"Dean, I'm going to hit you so hard you—" The Irishman stopped abruptly, his mouth hanging slightly open and his gaze directed somewhere over Dean's right shoulder.

"Seamus? Mate…" Dean waved a hand in front of Seamus' face, then turned to see the girls descending the staircase. Lavender and Parvati led the way, glowing in all their usual beauty, but Dean smirked when he noticed the girl that had caused a temporary short-circuit in Seamus' brain, walking carefully and blushing in uncharacteristic shyness. He reached over and closed Seamus' jaw.

Rachel spotted them the next morning and hurried over, her face glowing even as she stumbled over her own feet. Hannah and Tanya trailed after her, Katelyn already having found Wes.

"Oh, good, familiar faces," Rachel said when she reached the two, grinning. _"Someone _who's not all made-up and fake-looking."

"You look really nice, Hannah," Dean said in an unnaturally loud voice.

Hannah blushed bright red. "Thanks, Dean. Er…doesn't Tanya look pretty, too?"

Seamus and Dean agreed politely, as Tanya had painstakingly applied makeup that coordinated with her robin's-egg blue gown, but Seamus found his eyes drawn more so than usual to the only girl in Hogwarts who could look him in the eye without standing on the tips of her toes. Rachel was wearing a lightly lavender gown, the overskirt of which was gathered in gentle pleats at the hip and fastened with a decorative flower. A matching shawl was wrapped tightly around her shoulders so no more than an inch or two more of flesh was being shown than usual, but the gown was clearly a spaghetti-strap. She looked prettier than he'd ever seen her, Seamus realized with a funny flutter in his belly.

"Lavender is really excited about going with you tonight," Rachel said to him under her breath.

This sudden direct address caught Seamus rather off-guard, and he stammered, "Er—uh—uh, good."

She patted his arm. "Be nice to her, okay?"

He managed a nod. At this moment, Lavender herself appeared and latched onto Seamus' arm. Rachel reluctantly stepped back, her heart giving a little twinge of jealousy as they went off together, followed close behind by Dean and Hannah, who didn't look to be as happy together as everyone assumed they were going to be.

Suddenly, Wes Marks stepped in front of her and took Katelyn's hand. "You look gorgeous, gorgeous."

Katelyn giggled wildly as he kissed her hand. "You don't look too shabby yourself."

We laughed too, offering his arm. A hot blush creeping up her face, Katelyn took it.

Katelyn and Wes, Hannah and Dean, Seamus and Lavender, and Rachel and Tanya went downstairs together. Tanya found Terry Boot right off, and gave Rachel a little apologetic smile before following the other Funny Farmers into the Great Hall.

Rachel was soon left alone, standing awkwardly on the grand staircase. A sobbing sixth year was her only companion.

Five minutes passed, then ten, and then fifteen. Rachel took out her wand and amused herself by Transfiguring one of her shoes into a kitten and other various interesting objects. Meanwhile, her unhappiness with her choice of Yule Ball dates steadily increased until she jabbed the china windmill she had just Transfigured so hard that it splintered.

At this moment, Nickolay appeared from outside, hastily tucking his shirt in and looking uncharacteristically disheveled. Rachel quickly repaired the windmill and Transfigured it back into her shoe, which she attempted to put back on while descending the staircase. Such an exhibition would have made Seamus laugh and perhaps hurry to help her not kill herself, but Nickolay only stared at her in a manner that was almost akin to distaste.

"Vat are you doing, Vrachel?" he asked, sounding a bit repulsed.

"Well, you were late, and I was bored," she replied. "What would you have had me do, otherwise?"

He looked her up and down. "Vhy are you not dressed like ze other girls?"

Rachel blinked. "What is _that_ supposed to mean?"

"Ze other girls all haff dresses that do not hide them," Nickolay replied.

"I happen to think that I am very decently dressed," Rachel replied, lifting her chin defiantly. "I don't have to show a lot of skin to look nice for a ball."

"Fine, fine," he said flippantly. "Let us go and eat. If we sit in ze outskirts, no one vill be able to see zat your dress is not as nice as ze other girls'."

Rachel's nostrils flared, but she let Nickolay take her arm and lead her into the Great Hall, where terrific decorations had been put up. Rachel would have preferred to admire them longer, but Nickolay began pulling her towards a table occupied solely by Bulgarians. Thankfully, Hannah spotted them before it was too late, and Nickolay was obliged to seat himself at a table occupied solely by Funny Farmers (and Lavender and Terry).

After a rather awkwardly silent meal for the Funny Farm table, Dumbledore asked the hall to stand, and the tables were whisked to the side. The Weird Sisters trooped onto the stage, and the dance began with a slow waltz, which the four champions and their dates opened.

Terry and Tanya made a very pretty couple, both having been blessed with graceful feet. Once, Terry lifted Tanya into the air, her periwinkle dress fluttering elegantly as she laughed. This only made Hannah, who'd not been having the happiest night with the strangely taciturn Dean, even more determined to have fun.

"Dean," she said, turning to him, "we need to talk."

Dean grunted, still slumping in his chair.

"What's wrong with you?" Hannah asked, touching his arm.

This got Dean's attention like a slap in the face, and he looked rather sheepish. "Shouldn't we…um…have a drink first?" he suggested.

Hannah shook her head. "I know guys don't usually do this, but please, tell me how you feel. I'm listening."

Dean didn't reply.

"Come on, Tofu," Hannah urged. "The soon you tell me, the sooner we can have fun! This is the first dance we've both been to, besides Haley's wedding, and I want to dance at least _one_ dance!"

"You could dance with someone else," Dean offered.

"But I want to dance with _you_," Hannah said softly.

Dean was unmoved, and suddenly, Hannah lost it briefly and slapped him across the face.

_"Ow!_"

"Snap out of it!"

Dean touched his red cheek gingerly. "For Merlin's sake, Hannah!"

"If you think you scared me when you kissed me, or something, you're wrong," Hannah said, a pleading tone in her voice. "Of course I was shocked, it was my first kiss, but I was also excited! I was uneasy, I admit, but now I'm not….Now, does that make…anything better?"

"A bit, I guess," Dean replied after a moment, a tentative smile on his face.

"See?" Hannah answered. "If you had really scared me, would I be here, with _you_, tonight?"

Dean looked straight at her and said, "I guess not. So…"

"So…?"

"…Er…do you still like me?"

Hannah blushed but smiled. "Yes. I like you a lot."

Dean grinned and asked her to dance, to which she enthusiastically agreed. And as he held her in his arms, he finally realized just how pretty she looked in her white and blue dress.

"Hannah," he said seriously, "you look wonderful tonight."

Hannah's face relaxed into a contented smile.

Other Funny Farmers, however, were not having as much fortune as Hannah and Dean. Nickolay was leading the waltz rather off-tempo, and Rachel, a musician for a good ten years, was struggling immensely with this. To keep her mind off of that and her unpleasant partner, she tried to admire the other couples nearby. Dean and Hannah were latched quite firmly onto one another; Katelyn was gazing, starry-eyed, up into Wes' handsome face; Tanya and Terry were swirling elegantly around; Seamus and Lavender were dancing nearby, and Lavender was dimpling up at him—

_"Ow_!"

Nickolay leapt back with a Bulgarian cuss, and Rachel lost her footing and landed right on her behind. Five couples had to abruptly stop in order to avoid running her over. After several inquiries as to whether or not she was all right, Rachel forced back her humiliated blush and grinned.

"Yes, yes, just clumsy me." She got up on her own.

"You stepped on my foot," Nickolay said accusingly.

"Sorry," Rachel replied, genuinely. "I got a little distracted."

Nickolay gave a noncommittal grunt and reluctantly kept dancing with her, limping pointedly.

This went on through several dances. After a few minutes, Nickolay's mood changed abruptly, and he became the suave, gentlemanly boy Rachel had agreed to go out with. This was slightly puzzling, Rachel accepted it gladly, relieved that her date finally seemed happy to _be_ her date.

"Vat is it zat you like?" he asked her.

"Well, I like the Civil War," she answered. "You know, the American one—blue versus grey and all that. Did you know that more men died in the Civil War than all previous American wars combined? 620,000."

Nickolay yawned meaningfully.

"Oh, sorry," she said. "I tend to do that a lot…Anyway, I play the piano a lot, I've been told. I love horses, and I write profusely."

"Vat do you vrite about?"

"Oh, Civil War, really. It's the romance of it all, you know?"

"Do you like romance, then?" he asked in a low voice.

"Well, yes, that kind," she answered, a bit flustered.

He pressed his lips to hers.

This would have been a very romantic moment, if Rachel had actually liked Nickolay at all. But since she didn't, she pushed him away an instant later, rubbing at the stomach-turning sensation on her lips. "What was _that_ for!" she cried. "I'm only fourteen, and you're—you're—I don't even know how old you are!"

He said in response, "Six."

_"What?"_

"I haff kissed six girls tonight."

This made Rachel understandably very mad, and as he made to kiss her again, she shoved him so hard he tripped backwards. She was about to push him again, just for good measure, when none but _Seamus_ came flying out of nowhere and punched Nickolay square in the mouth.

Someone shrieked as Nickolay fell to the floor, his lip split and bleeding. Rachel found herself rooted to the spot. But obviously Seamus didn't, for he hauled the little Bulgarian to his feet by the collar and shook him vigorously.

"Keep your filthy little hands off her!" he roared—or, at least it sounded like this, for his accent was suddenly so thick it was difficult to understand a word he was saying.

Rachel snapped back to reality at his. "Seamus Finnigan, put him down," she said firmly, beginning to pry his trembling hands from Nickolay's shirt. "You're going to get _in trouble_."

He looked at her, his eyes steely and furious, but she met his gaze with equal intensity. "Seamus, it's fine."

A bit of Seamus' anger dissolved at this quiet reassurance, and he set Nickolay back on his feet. "Sorry," he said darkly.

"No, you're not," Rachel said matter-of-factly. "You were perfectly in the right. _You_, on the other hand—" She turned on Nickolay. "You stay the bleeding hell away from me and especially my friends. Y'hear?"

He said something nasty in Bulgarian, but then got to his feet and stalked off. As Rachel watched him go, Rachel felt as though a weight on her chest had been lifted.

"Are you okay?" Seamus asked her. "I saw what happened…"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Rachel replied as Tanya and Hannah hurried over. "I'm fine. It wasn't pleasant, but it didn't hurt."

Lavender cleared her throat.

"Just a minute. Rachel, are you sure you're all right? Do you want me to get a professor?"

"No, Seamus, I'm fine. Tanya, don't look so worried. It's all over. I'm glad he did it, actually—it gave me a good excuse to get rid of him."

Lavender was tugging at Seamus' shirt.

"Are you _sure_?"

"Yes, Seamus!" Rachel said in exasperation. "It's not like he tried to rape me, or anything! Now go and dance with Lavender or I'll hex you and forget the countercurse!"

Hannah snorted, and Seamus grinned despite himself. "All right, fine." Lavender then tugged him back out onto the dance floor as the Weird Sisters struck up what seemed to be their most popular tune.

Out on the floor, Katelyn had been having too good a time with Wes to notice the other dramas unfolding—at least up until that point. As she boogied to and sang along with her favorite Sisters tune "Bubble Bubble," she saw Wes out the corner of her eye. He was looking at her with aversion in his face.

"What?"

"You actually _listen_ to this shit?"

Katelyn gave him an affronted look. "First of all, yes, I _do_, I've told you that before! Second of all it's not 'shit,' as you so delicately put it. And _third_ of all, _don't cuss!_" She poked his chest for emphasis before turning away and dancing like a retard.

Wes hmmphed and stalked off. Katelyn ignored him.

Back on the sidelines, Rachel leaned against a wall and sipped her punch, chuckling as she watched Ron's helpless attempts to escape Padma. The more she watched and thought about other people, the less she would think about Seamus and the less it would hurt to see Lavender's pretty face tilted admiringly up at his.

"Oh, damn it all," she said in frustration, slapping her forehead. Fleur Delacour and Roger Davies gave her alarmed looks as they passed.

"Damn what?"

She jumped, spilling her punch all down her front. "Seamus! I—I—what? Oh, dear, look at my dress—_Scourgify_."

The red stain disappeared, and Seamus said, "Well, you swore. You only swear when you're really upset…"

Rachel found herself tongue-tied. "Oh—I…I, um, only—uh—"

"Mad at Nickolay?" he finished for her.

"Yes," she said, finding her intelligence again. "Oh, yes. Fuming. The nerve! But you were quite noble, you know."

He grimaced. "Oh. Thanks."

"I could have taken care of him."

"I know. It just made me really mad…I kind of lost it. Sorry."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why did it make you so mad?"

Rachel's question threw Seamus off-guard, and it was his turn to be tongue-tied. The real reason he got so mad was because he hated the sight of another man kissing his girl, but, of course, she was _not_ his girl and he couldn't say that to her face. So, after a rather painful pause, he said, "Well, you obviously didn't want to be kissed by him, and I…um…I know how you don't like being forced into things, so…yeah."

She beamed at him. "Seamus Finnigan, you're just a big softie."

He blushed. "No, you're just the only girl that doesn't need my help. So I have to give it even when you don't need it."

"Oh, Seamus, come here so I can kiss you." So saying, Rachel reached up to peck his cheek. But Seamus turned his head at the word kiss at the same time that she went up—and her lips landed nearly smack dab on his. A split second passed, and then they staggered apart.

An awkward silence ensued.

Seamus felt the blood rushing to his face, particularly his ears. But he couldn't shake the lingering sensation of her lips on his, and his palms began to sweat. He could kiss her again. Right there, right then, a seamless segue…she could appreciate that. Would she?

Rachel, on the other hand, felt liable to be sick. What had she _done_? Did he know it had been an accident? She hadn't intended to kiss him even remotely close to the lips, not at all. She had _wanted_ to, of course, but not intended. His lips had left a slight taste of sugar on hers—a cookie, perhaps? Suddenly, an unbidden sensation of what it would feel like to be _truly_ kissed by him—with his arms tight around her and his mouth warm on hers—flooded her body, and she felt heat rising in her face, along with a pleasant tingle in the pit of her stomach.

Seamus broke the silence with a grin and a weak chuckle. "Guess we know how you _really_ feel about me now, huh?"

Rachel forced a carefree laugh. "Yeah. Sorry about that."

They fell back into silence again. Rachel gazed off into space, imagining Seamus crushing her in his arms and kissing her until she couldn't breathe. (She got a bit breathless just thinking about it.)

Then a highly unpleasant thought occurred to her, bringing her sharply back to reality. "Seamus…?"

"Yeah?"'

"Where's Lavender?"

"Oh. I convinced her to hang with Parvati for a while. She's concerned about you, you know," he added, glancing over at her.

"Concerned? Why?"

Seamus' mouth twisted in a wry grin. "She says you don't ever wear makeup, and that's not normal."

Rachel couldn't help but laugh at this, and Seamus joined in. "When did she first notice I wasn't normal?"

"I knew it from the day we met," he answered teasingly. "You were that tall American with this frizzy brown hair who was so nervous you made your hands bleed."

"Oh, yeah," Rachel said wistfully. "…I'm still that tall American with frizzy brown hair, you know."

Seamus grinned. "Only, I was shorter than you, then. Now I'm taller."

He straightened and pulled his shoulder back, making a rather striking picture, indeed. Rachel smiled up at him. "Those were the days, weren't they?"

Seamus agreed. A silence that was now companionable fell after this, and the Weird Sisters' music took a secondary part to the memories that were playing themselves over and over in the two friends' heads.

Suddenly, Seamus reached out and put Rachel in a headlock. She cried out in surprise, but then wriggled out of his grasp. "What was that for?" she asked, brushing a few stray curls out of her face.

Seamus looked crestfallen. "I was hoping I could put you in one you couldn't get out of. I remember promising to do that, once."

Rachel blinked, then sat down hard on a chair and began laughing. Soon Seamus followed suit, and the two old pals sat hunched over at a table, nearly crying with mirth at the memory of all the scrapes and fights they'd gotten into as younger kids.

"I remember when you deflated Dean's soccer ball with quills," Rachel said.

_"I_ remember that you cried at the drop of a hat our first two years."

"Oh, yeah." Rachel grinned. "Bur _you_ always sounded like a fifty-year-old alcoholic Irish sailor. And that's the truth."

Seamus groaned. "Not the teasing again!"

"'Beware, the leprechaun bites'!" Rachel quoted with a wicked smile.

"I might just do that someday," he said darkly.

There was a sudden flash, and he looked up to see Rachel winding up her Muggle camera. "Candid photo of a characteristic expression," she explained. "You know, sweet memories…"

Seamus shook his head, grinning. "You're a piece of work, Su, honestly."

"Well, do you want to dance with this piece of work, or are we just going to sit here like puds?" she answered, fighting a sudden flush.

"Yeah," he answered. "I mean, yeah, I want to dance with you."

Rachel grinned, put away her camera, and they went out onto the dance floor.

Katelyn and Hannah, who were taking a breather together, noticed this.

"You should've seen Seamus after Haley's wedding," Katelyn said to Hannah. "He finally admitted out loud that he _likes_ Rachel. And he even said, and I quote, that she's 'the only girl he's ever liked this much.'"

"Aw," Hannah cooed. "Why doesn't he just tell her?"

"I dunno," Katelyn said, sipping at her punch. "He gave me some pretty good reasons why he should keep it to himself."

"But look at them," Hannah said. "He can't keep his eyes off her, and she's smiling so hard her cheeks are going to cramp up."

Katelyn snorted. "I agree with Seamus. It's better for them to be friends than for someone's expectations to be dashed. I'm not going to tell him that Rachel likes him back, and I won't tell Rachel that he likes her. And you won't, either," she added furiously as Hannah tried to protest. "Swear it."

Hannah frowned, but then reluctantly said, "Oh, all right, fine. I swear I won't tell Seamus and Rachel that the other likes them back, and I swear to thus withhold happiness from both of them."

"Attagirl."

Hannah scowled and drank the rest of her punch in one gulp.

At that moment, Rachel and Seamus decided to retire from the dance floor, too afraid of being made fun of any more. "Hi, guys," Rachel called brightly, whipping out her camera as she approached Hannah and Katelyn. "Can I get a picture?"

"Sure!" The two girls grinned, and Rachel snapped the pic.

"Whatever happened with you and Nickolay?" Katelyn asked as Rachel put the camera away. "One minute you were dancing with him, and next, he's off snogging some Hufflepuff."

Rachel blinked. "Oh? Now he's up to seven!"

"Huh?"

Seamus sighed. "From what I heard, Nickolay's going around and _tallying_ how many girls he's kissed. Rachel was number six."

Katelyn's face contorted, and her jaw dropped. _"Ew!_ Disgusting! Especially since you don't like him, you like—"

_"Silencio!_" Rachel cried. Katelyn realized what she had done about halfway through Seamus' name and quickly stuck her tongue out to disguise it.

Seamus and Hannah, both wide-eyed, looked back and forth before Katelyn, looking sheepish, and Rachel, who still had her trembling wand aimed at Katelyn's face. One more look at Katelyn, and then he noticed a hex forming on Rachel's lips. He hurriedly reached out and pushed her hand down.

"Look—I didn't hear her, Su, I swear."

She looked over at him, and the air seemed to leak out of her balloon. "Okay. I believe you."

He kept his hand over hers for a split second longer, then removed it and crossed his arms. _Well, she likes someone. It was bound to happen, I guess._ The old, familiar feeling of peculiar loneliness returned to settle in the pit of his stomach. He hadn't even realized it was gone until it came back.

Katelyn was studying his face, and he forced a mask of cheerfulness. "I'm going to get a drink of punch, be right back," he said, in a voice that sounded sickeningly carefree in his ears. Rachel and Katelyn nodded.

Seamus needed to break something. But he couldn't very well toss his punch cup to the ground, stomp on it a few times, then go and sock Dean and Nickolay in the mouths until their teeth fell out, which is what he _wanted_ to do. He glared into the watery depths of his drink. If he'd only asked her last year. He would know. Hell, he could _have_ her. It was all Dean's fault. Seamus was rather certain Dean hadn't even felt anything for her in third year. This only made him madder, as he'd been planning to ask her for weeks when Dean inserted himself between them.

"Having a good time, mate?" Dean said, coming to stand next to him.

Seamus couldn't stop himself. In a haze of hormone-induced rage, he slammed his cup down and punched Dean as hard as he could on the upper arm. "Ow! Hey, man! What the hell is wrong with you!" Dean cried, recoiling in pain and grasping at his throbbing arm.

This didn't really relieve any of the motions bubbling in Seamus' heart. So he took a deep breath and escaped out a door into the frigid rose garden. When he was a good distance away from any entrance, he stopped, blew a puff of steam into the air, and released a string of choice swear words into the starry sky above.

There were a few replying curses flung back at him from among the roses, but Seamus ignored them and sank onto a nearby stone bench, putting his head in his hands and sighing. He _needed_ to get a grip, ASAP. If he let his emotions run wild again, who knew what he might do or say? He imaged Rachel looking at him with angry tears in her eyes, demanding why he would use her like that and wondering who this person was.

Seamus squeezed his eyes shut at the pain the imaginary Rachel was causing him. Couldn't he just hit the fast forward button and skip all this damned teenage angst?

"Bloody hell," he groaned, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes.

"Seamus? Are you all right?"

He looked up to see both the very person and the very _last_ person he wanted to see at that moment. "What? Oh, yeah, Rachel, I'm fine."

"You don't look fine," she answered worriedly, sitting down next to him. "And it's arctic out here! Are you feeling ill? Is it your head? Are you coming down with something?" So saying, she put a warm hand on his forehead. "Well, your temperature feels all right…"

Seamus couldn't help a wry grin. "I'm fine, _mam_."

Rachel smiled sheepishly. "Sorry. I just…oh, you know me. You left rather suddenly. I wanted to make sure you didn't die. I'm rather fond of you, you know…"

He watched her ramble on, his thoughts racing. Could she…like him back? Was that even plausible? She'd asked him to dance, after all…

"Rachel."

She stopped talking abruptly, and he put his hands on her shoulders. "Rachel, are you truly my friend?"

Rachel was obviously taken aback. "That's a weird question, but yes, Seamus, of _course_ I am! I know sometimes it doesn't seem like it, but I am, I really am."

Seamus studied her face, but all he could find was sincerity and a touch of concern. There was no trace of any affection that could be taken to mean more…he dropped his hands, utterly defeated. "Oh…okay. Good. I—yeah." With a deep sigh, he shoved all his feelings for her into a shadowy corner of his mind and forbade himself to think about them any more. She was his friend, and that was it.

Rachel saw something very brief flicker across Seamus' freckled face after she gave her answer. What had it been? He smiled down at her then, and she suddenly realized the import of what had just happened—he had just reaffirmed his place in her heart, whether intentional or not. She fought back a sudden wave of unexpected tears. He was just her friend. Only her friend.

_Idiot!_ she thought scathingly. _Why'd you even get your hopes up?_ Out loud, she said, "Well, if you're sure you're okay, we can go back inside."

Seamus realized just how cold he was at that moment, and then noticed that Rachel was actually shivering and had goose bumps up her bare arms. "Oh—! Yeah, sure. You must be freezing."

She nodded, and they hurried back inside. Lavender was waiting impatiently, and when she saw the two return, she stalked over and said, "Why were you with _her,_ Seamus?"

"Look, Lavender. Rachel's been my friend for years. You know that. Am I not allowed to spend time with her?"

Lavender didn't look too happy, but she resignedly shook her head, then she and Seamus left Rachel to dance some more.

It was at about this time that Katelyn decided she was sorry for being so rude to Wes, and decided to try and find him to kiss and make up. (Hopefully more of the former.)

"Hey, Calvin?" she asked, approaching Wes' Ravenclaw friend. "D'you happen to know where Wes is?"

Calvin gave her an amused, patronizing look and snorted out a laugh. "He's with Prunella. His _girlfriend._"

Katelyn blinked. "His _what_?"

"His girlfriend. You know, chick he dates and snogs and shags." Calvin gave her a look that said 'just how stupid _are_ you?'

Katelyn blanched and swallowed hard, feeling the familiar stinging burn in her nose that heralded a flood of humiliated tears. Choking out a polite "thank you", she fled the Hall and had just entered a random hallway when she heard Wes' deep laugh.

"Wes?" she called.

The laughter stopped immediately, and a girl said, "Did you hear that?"

"I'll go see," came Wes' voice. He came out into the hallway. _"Katelyn?_ Oh, for cripes' sake, you desperate slut. Get a life!"

"Who is it, Wes?" A dark-haired girl came out into the hall behind him, and it took Katelyn a moment to register her name: Prunella Mauvaise…a _Slytherin._

Without waiting for another hateful epithet to be flung her way, Katelyn picked up her skirts and ran blindly away.

Meanwhile, an only slightly happier Rachel sat alone at a table back in the Great Hall, steadily kicking the chair next to her as her foul mood increased in direct proportion to the hormonal moods she felt shifting around inside of her. Of all nights these feelings had to appear on, they had to pick Christmas night, the Yule Ball.

The Weird Sisters struck up a slow tune, and Rachel's heart wrenched at the thought that Seamus would be dancing it with Lavender, not—she sat up as he approached her.

"Will you dance with me?" he asked frankly.

"Yes," Rachel answered without a moment's hesitation. "…But where's Lavender?"

"She said something about wanting to be the only girl not looking ghoulish. I think she's doing makeup or something." He took her hand and led her out onto the floor. "Sorry, it's a slow song. Is…is that okay?"

"Sure, why not," Rachel answered, trying not to read too much into everything.

Seamus paused. "It's been really handy that you haven't needed to fix your face."

"That's good."

"I mean, I think you look pretty, no matter what Lavender says."

Rachel fought a blush, and the two stood awkwardly on the floor for a minute. "Thanks, Seamus. Erm…"

They were both unsure as how to proceed. But finally, Seamus stepped closer and sheepishly put his arms out. Rachel stepped into them and linked her hands, albeit nervously, behind his neck.

"We never practiced this, not slow dancing," he said, beginning to dance.

Rachel shrugged. "First time for everything, eh?"

"Yeah."

"Ow—foot!"

"Sorry, sorry."

They bumbled along for a minute, until their inner pendulums equaled out and they hit a comfortable rhythm. Rachel struggled, however, feeling Seamus' warm hands through her dress. She desperately wanted to put her cheek on his shoulder and feel him stroke her hair. But of course he wouldn't, and she couldn't—too late. Rachel found herself resting her cheek on his broad shoulder, her heart pounding with adrenaline, but he didn't say anything, only tightened his arms around her ever so slightly as he guided her past Dean and Hannah, who had now stopped dancing completely and were rather busy with snogging.

The dance passed in silence. Neither of the two could think of a pertinent thing to say under the circumstances: it was like handling a nuclear bomb. A light touch and you could drop it, but holding it too tightly would trigger it…so they both opted not to handle it at all.

When the song ended, they stepped apart, slightly sheepish. "I'd probably better ask Lavender to dance, too," Seamus said. "it looks like she's on the warpath again."

Rachel grinned. "Okay. In the interest of general peace, ask her."

He smirked in response, and they went their separate ways once again. Rachel returned to sit alone at a table, while the Weird Sisters struck up yet another slow dance. And she tried—how hard she tried!—not to watch as Seamus put his arms around Lavender and she put her head on his shoulder _exactly_ as Rachel had. Of course, Lavender was hugging him as if he was her boyfriend already…Rachel couldn't see Seamus' face, but it looked as though he were whispering in her ear.

Tears were gathering in Rachel's eyes, and she blinked them back hurriedly. Horrors! Her nose was stinging and her throat closing up—either there was a cat nearby or she was about to begin crying over a boy in front of people who hadn't seen her break her tough façade in over two years.

It was definitely the latter. With a loud crash, she knocked her chair over and fled to the Entrance Hall, where her determination crumbled and she curled up on the steps and began to cry for the second time in two days over the same boy.

What seemed like a long while passed before Rachel got ahold of herself and managed to force her tears back into her heart. She was just wiping her swollen eyes and taking deep, cleansing breaths when the doors to the Great Hall creaked open a second time and Seamus came out.

"Hey, Su, I was just looking for y—" Seamus came to a juddering halt when he caught sight of Rachel's tear-flushed face and despondent posture. "Rachel—are you okay?" So saying, he hurried to sit beside her and put a comforting arm over her shoulders. (The irony of the fact that this was now the fifth time that night that one of them had come to the rescue of the other was lost on them both.)

Rachel shook him off bitterly. "Buzz off, Seamus."

Seamus blinked, surprised. "Hey—what's the matter? Are you mad at me?"

She moved away from his repeated attempt to touch her. The image of him whispering into Lavender's ear flashed through Rachel's mind, and she covered her mouth as more tears threatened. "Leave me alone. Please."

"Come on. You can't just shun me like this without telling me why." Obviously, Seamus thought she was just playing hard-to-get, so he put his arms around her and held on despite her angry protests and efforts to remove his arms.

Suddenly, Rachel's patience snapped, and she turned and slapped him sharply across the face. Seamus stiffened immediately and dropped his arms. "The hell was that for?"

"Don't swear at me," she snapped back.

"Don't sweat at you," he repeated loudly. "Why the bloody hell _not_?"

"Because I bleeding hate it, that's the bloody hell why!" Rachel cried.

Seamus stood up angrily. "Then maybe you should've told me why you're so unhappy! Ever thought of that? _Huh?_"

"Yes, but you're too stupid to understand why!" Rachel shouted back, scrambling to her feet.

"Oh, _I'm_ stupid, now!"

_"Now?_ You've always been stupid!"

"Jackass!"

"Whiskeyhead!"

"Redneck!"

"Potato farmer!"

There was a slight lull in the shouting match, for the two had just exhausted the insults that had worked so well when they were second years. Then old grudges surfaced, and it began again.

"Crybaby!"

"Toadface!"

"Showoff!"

"Mama's boy!"

"Teacher's pet!"

"Punching bag!"

"Frizzy-hair!"

"Freckle-face!"

"Long-nose!"

"Red-ears!"

There was a ringing silence, in which Rachel and Seamus glared at each other. The air was crackling with tension. Finally, Rachel snapped, bursting into angry tears and running back to Gryffindor Tower.

That would teach her to like a friend.

--

_(A/N: Phew! That's done! The reason it took so long and IS so long is, Schmo, Schmurf, and I all wrote our own versions of the Yule Ball, and then it was up to me to combine them all! So I hope this satisfies you two. :D)_


	25. Dissension in the Ranks

**Chapter 25:**

**Dissension in the Ranks**

The Funny Farm was in an uproar the morning of the 26th, for the delicate balances of power had been suddenly and unpleasantly thrown off. Seamus and Rachel, who had gone a record 1.75 months without fighting, were now fighting. Dean and Hannah, who were supposed to be the practical, levelheaded ones, weren't. Tanya was all alone, and Katelyn was missing.

Everyone except Tanya, Dean, and Hannah was in a sour mood when they went to breakfast. That left only Rachel and Seamus, who were busy trying to kill each other without getting caught. Poor Tanya had to separate them at the table by using herself as a human wall. Unfortunately for Hannah and Dean, who were still rather goo-goo eyed, Rachel and Seamus were both significantly bigger than Tanya, and so simply carried on their petty squabbling and hexing above her head.

Eventually, though, Tanya realized something. "Guys?"

Seamus flung a kipper at Rachel, who ducked just in time to get the greasy fish tangled up in her hair. "What?"

"Where's Katelyn?"

"I dunno," Rachel said. "_Mobilicorpus_."

"What do you mean, you don't know?" Tanya asked.

"That's very simple, Sharkbait," Hannah said patiently as Seamus stalked back to the table.

_"Someone's_ gotta have seen her sometime this morning," Tanya went on. "We share a bedroom with her."

Rachel shrugged. "I went upstairs long before you guys did."

"I offered to dance with you, dumbass!"

"Shut up, Finnigan!"

"Guys!" Dean exclaimed. "I hate to interrupt this, but, seriously, Katelyn's missing."

"She's not _missing_, Dean," Rachel scoffed. "We just don't know where she is, that's all."

Seamus stood up, using his height to his advantage. "I don't see her."

Hannah looked worried. "Where could she be?"

"I saw Wes," Rachel admitted. "She can't be with him."

"Found her," Seamus said suddenly, pointing.

Katelyn came up the aisle slowly, clutching her satin shawl at her throat. She was still wearing her dress from the night before, and her eyes had dark circles around them.

"What happened, Katelyn?" Tanya cried. "You look awful!"

"Fell asleep in the Transfiguration classroom," Katelyn mumbled, sitting.

The Funny Farm noted her trembling hands. "Eat something, Katelyn Ruth, right this instant," Rachel said after a pause. She filled Katelyn's plate with hash browns and a fried egg, and handed her a fork.

Katelyn groaned, but ate anyway, and drained the goblet of water Rachel pushed into her hands. "Now go upstairs, take a hot shower, and go straight to bed," Rachel insisted.

When Katelyn was out of earshot, Seamus made a face at Rachel. "Merlin—can you be any more controlling?"

Rachel's nostrils flared, but she answered coolly, "Katelyn's mother isn't here to take care of her, so _someone_ has to."

"Down boy," Dean hissed in Seamus' ear as the Irishman went to make a smart retort.

Seamus didn't say a word, but instead flicked his wand and sent Rachel's plate sailing into her lap. Rachel retaliated by giving Seamus such a bad case of Jelly Legs that he fell backwards off the bench.

And so the rest of the Christmas holiday passed. It soon came out that the reason for Katelyn's disappearance was because of Wes' Slytherin girlfriend. Seamus and Dean found it hilariously funny at first, until Katelyn burst into tears. Then they felt rather guilty, and made up for it by jumping said character in a deserted hallway and giving him a few well-deserved bruises, for which they were docked fifteen points. Rachel even added her own Sushi-esque spin on torture by 'accidentally' locking Wes in a broom closet and explaining the American Civil War, all the way from the Compromise of 1850 to the surrender of Joseph Johnston to William Tecumseh Sherman in April of 1865, while rhythmic dull thuds indicated the regular contact of his forehead with the wall.

The commencement of the new term was a welcome distraction for the Funny Farm. Rachel and Seamus had fewer opportunities to torment each other, and, in a similar vein, Hannah and Dean had fewer opportunities to hold hands, blush, and altogether act like the lovie-duvie sops that they were.

A month passed, and February dawned just as cold and icy as ever. Then, on one particularly rainy evening, a letter came for Seamus by owl. He abandoned his spot at the table nearest the fire, where the rest of the Funny Farm was doing schoolwork, and read the brief note before tossing it onto his schoolbag.

"My mam's had her baby," he said shortly, returning to his chair.

The girls cried out with glee. "Oh, is it a boy or a girl, Seamus?" Hannah exclaimed.

"Girl."

"What's her name?" Tanya pressed.

"Kathleen Aislinn Finnigan."

Katelyn cooed. "How adorable!"

"Yeah," Seamus mumbled. "Just great." He bent his head, frowning, over his Potions essay.

Rachel, sitting nearby, looked as though she wanted desperately to comment, but was too angry with Seamus to fawn over his baby sister. Instead, she said, "Don't look so happy about it, gosh."

"Shut up, Hekman," he snapped, slamming his quill down. "You never know when to quit, do you!" He shoved all his things into his book bag and stomped upstairs, slamming the dorm door behind him.

Rachel looked shocked. "Oh…" she said, almost to herself.

"'Oh' as in you've just realized what a jerk you've been to poor Seamus this whole time?" Katelyn asked, wryly.

To everyone's surprise, Rachel nodded meekly, looking frightfully ashamed.

"Well, that's an improvement," Tanya commented.

"No one understands why you two've been fighting," Hannah murmured, deep in a pile of homework.

Rachel stood and went to the window, resting her head on the cool glass, but didn't answer.

A few hours passed, and eventually Seamus emerged from his cave, carefully avoiding Rachel's eye as the troupe went down to supper. Rachel saw the hurt in his face, and she bit her lip, and as they walked the halls, she built up her courage.

Finally, as they were descending the staircase into the Entrance Hall, she took a deep breath and caught at his sleeve. "Seamus, may I talk to you?"

He nodded emotionlessly and waited until the others had gone into the Great Hall. "What is it?"

"Seamus, I'm sorry. For what I did at the Yule Ball…everything. Really, I am. I…I hate fighting with you, but this one was the worst because I don't know _why_ we're fighting. Please, forgive me?"

She looked anxiously up at him, twisting her fingers together.

In return, Seamus smirked and wrapped his arms around her. "You know I can't refuse a sincere apology."

"That's what I'd hoped for," Rachel answered with a relieved chuckle, returning the warm embrace. "You're really just a big softie, d'you know that?"

"Just around you," he rejoined, and hid his face in her frizzy brown hair, all the strain that the recent unsettling Rita Skeeter article had caused between them instantly loosening.

Katelyn reentered the Entrance Hall at this point, and stopped with a smug look on her face. "Well, welcome back, you two."

They parted, rather guiltily. "What do you mean, 'welcome back'?" Seamus asked.

Katelyn shrugged. "You two just aren't the same when you're fighting. Now—are you coming or what?"

Rachel nodded. "Yeah, I'm starving!"

And they went in to supper.

--

_(A/N: Merry Christmas! If Sushi gets lazy and doesn't update again, that is. ;D Anyway, note to Snoodles: we still on for Sunday? And note to Schmo: CALL. US. NOW!! And that about wraps up the public service announcements! TTFN, y'all!)_


	26. Tasko Numero Dos

**Chapter Twenty-Six:**

**Tasko Numero Dos**

The morning of the second task dawned bright and clear. The Funny Farm, laughing and joking with the rest of their classmates, traipsed down to the Lake, where they filed into the stands, Rachel having great fun with her Muggle camera.

After the tenth group photo, Seamus had had enough, and he plucked the camera from her hands and put it in his back pocket. Rachel wailed about the damage that would be caused when he applied that pocket to his seat, and Seamus entertained all within eyeshot by charming the object to float lazily just out of her reach.

At that moment, however, a man's voice boomed out over the crowds' din. "Well, all our champions are ready for the second task, which will start on my whistle. They have precisely an hour to recover what has been taken—"

"An _hour_?" Tanya whispered.

"—from them. On the count of three, then. One…two…_three_!"

The whistle blew, and, after a few moments of worry and excitement, all was quiet.

"Now what?" Hannah said after a pause.

"We do what we do best," Seamus said. "…Hang out." So saying, he put his arms along the backs of first Rachel's, then Katelyn's seats. Rachel beamed.

"I thought that what we did best was tease the hell out of each other," Dean said.

"That, too."

Tanya whistled "Irish Eyes Are Smiling" absently, and Seamus looked at her.

"What?"

"Nothing. It's just that today's my da's birthday and I completely forgot." Seamus slapped his forehead and spewed out a sentence in an extremely complex foreign language.

The other Funny Farm members blinked. "Say wha?" Katelyn said blankly.

Seamus repeated the phrase. "It's Gaelic for 'pity the fool who forgets'."

Rachel looked impressed. "You never told me you spoke Gaelic!"

"I'm not fluent, yet," he replied sheepishly.

"'Yet'?"

"My _móraí_'s taught me since I was five. I can understand people when they speak it to me, and I can pronounce the words decently, but I can't hold an intelligent conversation for very long."

"And that's the truth," Rachel said with a grin. "But it's really cool that you can speak a foreign language. ¡Yo habla español!"

"¡Y yo, también!" Hannah piped up, excited.

Slightly concerned, Seamus and Dean nodded slowly.

_"Faugh a ballagh!_" Rachel exclaimed.

"'Clear the way'," Seamus translated. "How'd you know that?"

"Irish brigades in the Civil War," she answered matter-of-factly.

Seamus grinned. "I shoulda known."

Thus the Funny Farm passed the hour. Eventually, Seamus' arms grew tired and he took his left on down from over Katelyn's seat. Katelyn noticed how his right remained around Rachel, and she winked at Hannah and Tanya, who grinned.

Some time later…

"Ooh, look, the Beauxbatons girl is up!" Tanya exclaimed. Seamus and Dean both stood up in order to catch a glimpse of Fleur Delacour emerging from the water, soaking wet. Hannah kicked Dean's knees, and Rachel looked rather put out.

Sometime even later….

Cedric broke through the water with Cho Chang, a Ravenclaw the girls rather disliked, in his arms.

"Hey, there's Cedric!" Rachel cried, whistling shrilly.

Almost instantly afterwards came Viktor Krum, bearing a sodden-haired Hermione. He helped her over to the dock and got her a towel before he grabbed one for himself.

"Why do they have our _schoolmates_?" Katelyn shrieked. "Isn't this illegal?"

"What a sweetie," Tanya said, ignoring Katelyn. (Dean and Seamus exchanged disgusted looks as the girls fawned over the other menfolk.)

Hannah glanced at her watch. "There's only ten minutes left for Harry!"

Nine minutes passed, and then the Funny Farm began to get a little nervous. "D'you think he's going to make it?" Dean asked.

"Eight…seven…six…five…"

"Maybe?"

"…Three…two…one…"

"Not."

"Negative one…negative two…negative three…"

"Definitely not."

Suddenly, Hannah noticed some movement in the water, and a second or three later, two people shot up out of it.

"YES!" everyone screamed.

"It's Ron!" Hannah exclaimed, jumping up and down. "It's Ron! It's Ron and…who's that kid? Where's Harry? _We've lost Harry!_" She grabbed Dean's jacket and began to shake him back and forth. "Oh, the _humanity!_"

"Get a grip, Hannah," Dean said, pulling her hands off his jacket. "Harry's probably fine."

"Yeah, I highly doubt he got attacked by grindylows, kidnapped by merpeople, or eaten by the Giant Squid," Rachel scoffed.

"Rachel!"

"What? I was just trying to be optimistic!"

At that moment, Harry came shooting up out of the water, flew through the air and landed hard on the dock.

"Oh, Merlin, it's Harry!" Hannah cried. "Come on, let's go down there!"

So the Funny Farm eventually pushed through the crowds and arrived on the platform Harry was on. He was shivering like mad because of the icy water and the cool air, and everyone was fetching him lots of towels.

"Harry!" the Funny Farm girls cried with relief as they all gathered around him and overpowered him with hugs.

Dean felt the slightest twinge of jealousy as he watched Hannah give Harry a big hug, and, surprisingly, Seamus felt also felt a bit resentful when Rachel joined in.

"I'm fine, you four," Harry exclaimed, even though he was covered in cuts and bruises and shaking violently.

Fleur burst from the crowd and wrapped her arms around the 'kid' Ron'd dragged up. "You saved my seester!"

"Er—"

"You saved 'er, even though she was not yours to save. Thank you!" She kissed him on the cheek. "And you"—turning to Ron—"you 'helped!"

"Well, a bit—"

She swooped down and kissed his cheek, too, which turned a brilliant ruby red.

_"Merci_!" Ron breathed, smitten.

The Funny Farmers rolled their eyes.

"So who won?" Tanya shrieked.

"The judges're deliberating," said Seamus. "And Dumbledore's finally gone crackers." He pointed to where the headmaster was squatting on the bank and grunting to a—really rather ugly!—merperson. But only he and Rachel could see over the crowd, so the other members of the Funny Farm ignored this little bit of information.

At last, the scores were read off. The Beauxbatons girl come away with 25 points, Cedric with 47 points, the surly-looking Durmstrang student with 40 points, and Harry with 45.

"Moral fiber, eh?" Seamus said as the crowds gradually began dispersing. "More like they thought he had died and then were super excited when they found out there wouldn't be paperwork, after all."

Rachel was the only one to get this joke, and she and Seamus sniggered all the way back to the castle.

--

_A/N: Y'all ready for a Funny Farm overload? ...Well, too bad, 'cause Sushi has a week off and a stack of scribbled-on notebook paper! :D Expect an update every day or so for a few days this week! I can just hear your ecstatic screams (note sarcasm). _

_In other news, Merry TWO DAYS UNTIL Christmas! :D_


	27. Tensión

**Chapter Twenty-Seven:**

**Tensión**

"Would you look at this!"

The Funny Farm, who had previously been lounging around doing nothing, promptly obeyed Katelyn's command, crowding around her. "Look at this article," she said, jabbing a finger at the magazine. "'Potter's Secret Heartache'. What is this nonsense doing in _Witch Weekly_?"

"Ssh!" said everyone else as they read the article.

After a long, silent pause, Rachel straightened. "I don't know about you, but that doesn't sound like Harry."

"Or Hermione," said Hannah.

"Or Pansy," said Seamus, pointing at the line referring to the Slytherin as 'pretty and vivacious'.

"'Rita Skeeter'," said Tanya. "Isn't she that obnoxious blonde witch that's always sneaking around in the corridors? I don't like her."

"Sharkbait has spoken," Hannah said solemnly.

Tanya nodded imperiously.

--

Poor Tanya. She quickly realized how little the rest of the school cared about her opinion of Rita Skeeter, and Hermione was tormented day in and day out.

"If it's any consolation, Hermione," Rachel said as everyone was getting ready for bed one night in early April, "we all know that article was nowhere near the truth. Ms. Skeeter was wrong to publish it."

"Thanks, girls," Hermione said tiredly, her bandaged hands struggling to button up her pajamas.

"Did Viktor Krum really ask you to visit him in _Bulgaria_?" Lavender asked excitedly.

Hermione sniffed haughtily and closed her bed curtains.

"You've only asked her that a thousand times, you know," Hannah said chidingly to her classmate.

Lavender pouted. "I know, but I still want to know all the dirty details!"

The Funny Farm rolled their eyes.

--

Two weeks later, it was Easter, and the week after that, Rachel turned fifteen, the last of the Funny Farm to do so. Pink with pleasure and her arms weighed down with the several tons of books ("A History of the Wizarding World" from Hannah, a new Herbology textbook from Tanya to replace the one Katelyn'd dropped in the bath, "Muggle Studies VII: Muggle Fiction from 1800 AD" from Katelyn, a box of new Wit Quick candies from Dean—"not that you need help or anything"—and "Phileas B.F.R.O. Fizzard's classic: Minié Balls and Broomsticks: Wizards in the American Civil War" from Seamus) and the many affectionate hugs and rugby tackles she'd gotten from her friends, Rachel happily led the Funny Farm out of the castle, intent on spending a nice lunch on the banks of the Lake. One step on the grounds, however, and she gave a shriek, dropping all her gifts on the grass.

"What was that all about?" Seamus asked, scooping the dropped presents into his arms.

Rachel pointed towards the Quidditch pitch. "Look what they've _done!_"

They all looked. Ten-foot hedges rose up all along what had once been the greenest pitch east of Ireland. "First they forgo the season," Rachel said mournfully, "and now they've turned the pitch into a _garden!_"

"From what I've been told," Katelyn mused, "it's supposed to be a maze. I think it's for the third task."

"That'll be _sweet_," Dean enthused.

Rachel still looked put out. "Don't worry, Rach," Tanya said. "I'm sure they'll bring Quidditch back next year."

"I sure hope so," said Hannah. "I never know what to do with myself on Saturdays anymore."

"Aw, chin up," Seamus said to Rachel. "If it would make you fell better, you could read the Fizzard book out loud."

Everyone groaned, but Rachel brightened a bit. "Really?"

"Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!" Katelyn yelled, sinking to her knees in the grass.

"Get a grip," Seamus said. "I think the Civil War is kinda interesting, especially the way Rachel describes it."

Rachel looked as though she could have kissed Seamus. Katelyn flopped facedown.

Significantly happier, Rachel led the Funny Farm down to the shade of the trees, where Dean, Hannah, Tanya and Katelyn writhed in agony as Rachel read to an attentive Seamus.

--

The Funny Farm was loath to return to actual work. But Professor McGonagall threatened to hex them so bad they wouldn't be able to sit down for a week, so grudgingly they returned to the castle and unhappily climbed the stairs to the stifling Divination room.

"It really _is_ hell in here," Seamus muttered, loosening his tie and squirming in his too-warm sweater and robes.

"No. Kidding," was Katelyn's dark reply.

"My dears…" came Professor Trelawney's voice. Rachel slumped forward onto the table she shared with Seamus, nearly dead.

"…We have almost finished our work in planetary divination. Today, however, will be an excellent opportunity to examine the effects of Mars, for he is placed most interestingly at the present time. If you will all look this way, I will dim the lights…"

The lights went out. Someone snored, and the other students. By the light of the fire, Trelawney shot the class an evil look and began to describe the planetary angles.

"This…is…boring," Dean hissed under his breath, just loud enough for Hannah and Tanya to hear.

Fortunately, there came a distraction in the form of a scream. Everyone jumped, and the lights snapped back on. Harry was writhing on the floor, his hands clapped over his forehead, screaming in agony. Ron dropped to his knees beside him, shaking him roughly.

"Harry! _Harry!_"

Harry stopped screaming and seemed to wake up. A sigh of relief fluttered through the crowd of students at this, and Tanya began to lose interest.

"You all right?" Ron asked, sounding scared.

"Of course he isn't!" Trelawney burst between Seamus and Rachel, knocking the two aside in her haste to get to Harry's side. "What was it, Potter? A premonition? Apparition? What did you see?"

"Nothing," Harry said, getting up.

"You were clutching your scar!" protested Trelawney. "You were rolling on the floor, clutching your scar! Come now, Potter, I have experience in these matters!"

Dean snickered.

"I need to go to the hospital wing, I think," Harry replied firmly. "Bad headache."

Everyone backed away.

"My dear, you were undoubtedly stimulated by the extraordinary clairvoyant vibrations of my room! If you leave now, you may lose the opportunity to see further than you have ever seen before!"

"I don't want to see anything except a headache cure," Harry replied, and left.

There was a rather confused silence for a moment, which Seamus broke by muttering, "Bad trip?" Everyone snickered, and then Trelawney herded them back to their seats, still obviously miffed by her lost opportunity.

--

"Something seems to be up with Harry," Tanya said for the umpteenth time.

Groaning, Katelyn dropped her head into her arms. "We've been over this a gazillion times, Tatiana Rogers. He's a teenage boy under a lot of stress. Now keep studying."

Dean didn't look too happy about this unnecessary interruption. "Harry's not the only one under a lot of stress," he said loudly.

"Tanya, dear," said Seamus, sweetly, "open your mouth one more time and I'll snap your neck."

Rachel quickly moved between the tiny, wide-eyed Russian and the lanky, glowering Irishman.

"Exams start tomorrow," said Hannah. "We've been studying for two weeks. I think we deserve a break."

"I can't," Seamus said shortly. "If I fail Transfig, my mam'll have my hide."

"But I worked with you," Rachel protested. "You Transfigured my notebook so well I had to have McGonagall turn it back."

"And the you Transfigured my Potions book into a tea cup and dropped it," Katelyn said with a strained smile.

"What are you having trouble with?" Rachel said, abandoning her books to look over Seamus' shoulder. "It can't be the application…is it the theory?"

"Sorta," Seamus grumbled. "I can't _remember_ any of the spells or the—the, y'know…yeah. The theory."

Hannah sighed. "It's a bit late to be learning Transfig theory, don't you think?"

"Thanks for the reminder," Seamus snarled.

"Well, Transfig isn't until Wednesday," Rachel said. "Why don't we all work on Potions? That's tomorrow."

"Joy," Katelyn said, with none in her voice.

Dean dragged the tattered book from his bag and slammed it on the table. Everyone looked at it in disgust, but no one made any move to open it.

"You know what," Hannah said, "I feel like going outside for a moment."

"Me, too," everyone chimed in, and in a flurry of skirts and loose ties, everyone got up and fled the common room.


	28. Tasko Numero Tres

**Chapter Twenty-Eight**

**Tasko Numero Tres**

"Well, that was crap."

"It was not."

"Just 'cause you're amazing at History of Magic doesn't mean it's a walk in the park for everyone else."

_"I_ thought it was pretty easy, too."

"The whole _world's_ against me!"

The rest of the Funny Farm rolled their eyes. "The whole world is _not_ against you, poor melodramatic Seamus," Hannah said.

"Just us," chimed in Dean.

"Well, look on the bright side," Tanya said cheerfully. "The term is over! Summer holiday technically starts now! I mean, we still have a week to go before exam results, but we've just finished our studies, it's a lovely June evening, our stomachs are full of simply amazing food, we get to laze around and watch free entertainment—"

"We get it, we get it, life's beautiful, sunshine and daisies, la dee da dee da."

Rachel elbowed Seamus. "Tanya's right. Plus, I brought a deck of cards—Muggle cards, mind you, so no funny business."

"And I have today's issue of the _Daily Prophet_," Katelyn announced, waving the paper around in the air. "I haven't gotten a chance to read it yet, but I saw Harry in it."

"What now?" Hannah sighed.

Katelyn unfolded the paper and the five others gathered around her, still trekking towards the ex-Quidditch pitch. "'Harry Potter: Disturbed and Dangerous'," Dean read aloud.

Everyone shared glances.

Katelyn read the brief article out loud, and after she finished, no one spoke for a long time. "He does speak Parseltongue," Hannah haltingly admitted after the lengthy silence. "I mean, remember the Dueling Club second year?"

"And he did collapse in Divination a few weeks ago," Seamus added. "Mighty fishy, if you ask me, the way he hushed it up."

"But he can't be a Dark Wizard," Rachel cried. "He's Harry Potter—the _Boy Who Lived!_ He defeated You-Know-Who when he was a _baby_. Why would he be in cohorts with the person who orphaned him?"

"You've got to admit, though," Seamus countered, "he's not exactly been the most normal classmate. Trust me—you don't share a dorm with him. Weird stuff's been happening, ever since first year."

"Seamus' got a point," said Dean with a shrug. "But I still don't think he's…'disturbed and dangerous.'"

Seamus didn't reply, and the girls shared identically furrowed brows.

As the very first stars began to twinkle in the summer sky, the Funny Farm ascended the stairs to their seats near the top of the stands. "I'm so excited!" Tanya squeaked.

Dean gazed out at the maze. "I doubt we'll be able to see anything. We can't even see the champions from up here."

At that moment, a familiar voice boomed out over the stands, echoing against the faraway hilltops and reverberating over the Lake.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament is about to begin!"

The stands erupted in cheers.

"Let me remind you how the points currently stand! Tied in first place, with eighty-five points each—Mr. Cedric Diggory and Mr. Harry Potter, both of Hogwarts School."

The Funny Farm and the rest of their schoolmates, united for once in school spirit, raised thunderous applause.

"In second place, with eighty points—Mr. Viktor Krum, of Durmstrang Institute! And in third place—Miss Fleur Delacour, of Beauxbatons Academy!"

Hogwarts applauded politely.

"So…on my whistle, Harry and Cedric," said the announcer. 'Three—two—one—"

The whistle blew, the stands erupted in cheers. A minute later, Krum was sent in, and then Fleur.

After awhile of cheering pointlessly, the Funny Farm sat down, throats raw.

"So—how do American Muggles play cards?" Seamus asked Rachel.

"Well…have you guys ever heard of Rat Slap?" she replied.

Dean and Seamus shook their heads, but Hannah, Tanya, and Katelyn groaned. "Not with you!" Hannah cried.

"Why not with Su?" Seamus asked curiously.

Hannah was about to open her mouth, but then looked rather pleased with herself. "Oh, we girls have just played it so much…you and Dean ought to have a go!"

"Okay," said Dean, and he and Seamus turned to Rachel for instruction. Hannah, Tanya, and Katelyn, on the other end, scooted a few feet away and busied themselves with the Prophet, waiting for the inevitable.

Sure enough, a few minutes later, they heard—

SLAP!

_"OW!_"

"Oh, for goodness' sake, you got the cards."

"Yeah, but you also took the _skin_ off the back of my _hand!_"

"New round?"

"Hell, yeah, and I'll beat you at it."

The next cry of pain was Dean's. "For crying out loud, Hekman, ease off!"

"You wanted to play."

"No one told us we'd get _abused_, though!"

"Yeah…I think I'm done playing Rat Slap with Rachel Hekman—forever."

"Oh, you'll be back," Rachel said with an evil glint in her eye as she gathered up the cards. "They always come back."

"Yeah, but we kinda learned our lesson," Hannah replied. "We know better now…"

"You mean you _knew_ what she was going to do to us?" Dean cried.

"And you didn't _stop_ her?" Seamus added, a bit angrily.

"It wasn't that bad," Rachel protested.

"Oh, it was," Seamus replied.

Rachel looked hurt. "I had fun."

"You weren't getting hit!"

"Well, maybe you're just _bad_ at Rat Slap!"

"Maybe _you're_ abusive!"

"Maybe you need to—"

"All right, all right, time outs for Rachel and the Irishman," Katelyn sighed, intervening right when both arguers reached for their wands. "Go on, move."

Scowling something awful, Rachel and Seamus scooted a good distance away from each other. Dean, Hannah, Katelyn, and Tanya moved to sit between them. Rachel took out a Civil War book to read by wandlight, Seamus stretched out on his back and gazed up at the stars, and the rest of the Funny Farm talked about nothingness for a good three hours. A few first years in the rows ahead of them began to nod off.

Around a quarter after ten, however, Seamus sat up and Rachel glanced up from her book. A tingle was building in the air—could Harry or Cedric be returning triumphant? Both Fleur and Krum had dropped out…the stands began to liven up—everyone felt the expectancy, and people began to clot up as closely as they were able to to the maze's entrance, holding their breaths, hoping for their chosen champion to emerge with the glittering Cup, and for the other to come out empty-handed.

Suddenly, there was a sound like the crack of a gun, and the stands erupted in cheers. It took a long moment for the news to reach the Funny Farm, but they cheered as loud as everyone else the moment they head Harry'd returned with the Triwizard Cup.

"He's won! He's won! He's won!" Katelyn and Tanya sang gleefully, dancing about in circles.

Then, their ears began to pick up something that wasn't cheering—_screams_. The screeches of horror began down at the foot of the stands, but they spread like wildfire.

"He's dead! Cedric Diggory is _dead!_"

--

_A/N: We weren't kidding when we said Funny Farm overload! XD Anyhow, we just wanted to wish you all a Merry Christmas! :D _


	29. ANGST! NOT YAY!

**Chapter Twenty-Nine:**

**ANGST! NOT YAY!**

It was four in the morning before Rachel and Tanya were able to convince the last of the terror-stricken first years to go up to bed. Their older schoolmates had log since retired to sleep away tear-swollen eyes and whirling thoughts, but Tanya, Rachel, Seamus, Hannah and Dean had remained in the common room, Katelyn having been the only one of the group that was able to sleep. But no one opened their mouths to make a good-natured jibe at their absent friend.

Stricken silence reigned for what seemed like hours. Dean, staring unseeingly into the smoldering ashes of the fire, held a trembling Hannah in his arms, rocking her slightly. Tanya curled up on a cushy chair nearby with a teary sigh; Seamus sat on the arm of one of the sofas, watching mutely as Rachel tidied the common room, disposing of used tissue into the fireplace with a flick of her wand and unnecessarily fluffing throw pillows to give her hands something to do.

"You liked him, didn't you?" Seamus asked at length.

Rachel glanced up from her work. "Well, we all did. He was a…a nice boy."

Seamus shook his head. "That's not what I meant. You _fancied_ him."

Rachel turned away and wiped invisible dust from a bookcase. "I suppose so, once. It was hard not to. I was only twelve, after all."

"I wish they would tell us what happened," Tanya said. "Was it an accident? Did a spell go wrong? Was it _intentional_, God forbid?" She sniffed back tears and wiped a few strays from her cheeks. Seamus sat next to her and put a bracing around her shoulders.

"They won't tell us the straight truth, I'll warrant," he said after a lengthy silence. "They usually never do. Unless it's something like 'You-Know-Who is back'."

He and the Funny Farm shared a dry laugh.

Tanya dried her tears and straightened. "I'm going to _try_ not to wonder. It's just too sad…"

Rachel nodded and turned her back on the sorry little band.

"It's kinda a strange sensation, though, isn't it? I mean, Cedric was only two?—three?—years older than us—he's been here as long as we've known Hogwarts—and now he's gone, just like that."

"Gives you an idea of how fragile life is," Tanya replied. "I mean, it could just as easily been Harry."

"Why _wasn't_ it Harry, though?" Seamus asked. "I mean…"

There was a watery sniffle from the corner. "I wish it hadn't been _either_," Rachel said forcefully.

Seamus looked concerned and went over to her. "Hey…it'll be okay, really."

"Yeah…once we all get over him!"

Feeling worse, Seamus put his arms around her and pulled her close; Rachel sniffled a few times and then hid her face in his shoulder, obviously crying. "It could just as easily have been one of _you_," she said thickly, her voice muffled by his sweater.

A bit bemused and completely helpless, Seamus stroked her hair a bit shyly, and Tanya said, "Well, it wasn't, so try and think about _that_. We're all fine…"

Rachel clung to Seamus. "Really, Su, it'll be okay. I promise."

"But…"

"I _promise_."

Rachel heaved a shuddering sigh, and Seamus tightened his arms around her.

"It's late," Tanya announced. "We should all get in bed."

Rachel, who had dried her tears a bit, reluctantly pulled away from Seamus' warm embrace. "Tomorrow's another day..."

"That's right," Seamus answered firmly. "And we'll face it when it comes."

Quietly, the five picked up their things and went to bed.

--

The next morning was quiet in Gryffindor Tower, and it was no different at breakfast. Though the Hufflepuffs seemed to be the saddest of the hundreds of students packed into the Great Hall, all the tables were subdued. The safety that had once been the bulwarked castle of Hogwarts was shattered; a student, a mere boy, one of their own, had perished prematurely, and now each student was privately wondering: would there be more? Could he be only the first?

When Dumbledore stood and cleared his throat for attention, the entire Hall went silent, more quickly the Funny Farm had ever heard it.

"I know you must be hoping for an explanation," he began, his quiet voice echoing through the Hall. "But I'm afraid I cannot offer more than a word of two of consolation. Cedric Diggory did not experience any pain before his untimely death. His pain is left for us, the living, to experience."

Tanya wept softly, and Katelyn hugged her.

"For the remainder of the term, therefore," Dumbledore went on, "I ask you to be sensitive to the sufferings of your schoolmate, Harry Potter. Do not ask him what happened last night. Consider him only as a classmate sorely affected by the passing of a friend. Cedric would have wished it this way.

"Thank you for your attention."

The noise level in the Hall was slow to climb to a usual level. The Funny Farm end of the table in particular was quiet, as Tanya was still crying, and Seamus had Rachel in his arms and was holding her unashamedly.

"I don't think Hogwarts will ever be the same again," said Hannah.

Tanya shook her head. "I'll be seeing him around every corner…"

"If you believe what Dumbledore said," Dean answered, picking up his bag as the Hall emptied for class, "he didn't hurt. It was quick…"

"It doesn't make it a better death, you know," Rachel said, detaching herself from Seamus' arms. "He's still dead."

"At least it wasn't us. Or you," Tanya sniffed.

"Thank God," Rachel said sincerely, and the Funny Farm, with their arms around each other, exited the Hall.

--

_A/N: MERRY CHRISTMAS from all of us here at Schmo and Sushi headquarters! :D Expect your next update within the week!_


	30. A Parting of the Ways

**Chapter Thirty:**

**A Parting of the Ways**

The piercing whistle of the scarlet engine filled the air as the Hogwarts Express rolled into King's Cross. Students, dressed in Muggle clothes, poured out of the train and onto the platform, where waiting families greeted them happily.

Dumbledore's dire warning of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's sudden and violent return still lingered almost tangibly about the shoulders of all departing classmates. Friends hugged each other longer than usual, and couples lingered in their fond goodbyes. The unspoken worry that hung low over the platform was: will I see these people next term? Or will they be gone, too?

"…And as long as the Jelly Legs Jinx still works, there's hope for wizards yet," Seamus was saying gleefully as the Funny Farm dismounted, giggling over the not-so-sorry plights of Draco Malfoy and his two cronies.

"Oh, Seamus, that's all you care about: revenge!" Rachel laughed.

"I'll get you for that…"

"Seamus! Seamus!"

The Funny Farm turned to see a plump, glowing Mrs. Finnigan hurrying towards them, and a chorus of delighted greetings burst forth. "Look who I brought," she cooed in response, and turned the baby carrier to reveal a sleeping plump-cheeked, precious baby girl. "This is little Kathleen."

"She's so cute!" Tanya said needlessly.

"A doll!" Rachel added. "She's beautiful, Mrs. Finnigan."

The new mother beamed. "Thank you, girls. Now, I'll let you kids alone before I claim my Seamus again."

She stepped away just as Tanya's father came into the station to escort the girls home. "Oo, we have to hurry," Tanya said, throwing her arms around Dean and Seamus simultaneously, clonking their heads together.

And thus the Funny Farm shared goodbye hugs and many fond farewells (and passionate kisses on Dean and Hannah's parts). It was hard not to consider Dumbledore's words as they prepared to separate—what would the summer bring, in both the wizarding world and their own lives?

Eventually, and highly reluctantly, the girls waved one last goodbye to Seamus and Dean and their other schoolmates before picking up their trunks and following Mr. Rogers out to the waiting vehicle.

"Did you girls have a fun year?" Mr. Rogers asked as they clambered into their seats.

Rachel looked at Hannah, Katelyn, and Tanya before replying, "Yes. Yes, it was a fantastic year."

**The End**

_A/N: TADAAAA! We're done!!! :D_


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